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H.    DE    BALZAC 


THE    COMEDIE    HUMAINE 


SHE    FOUND    CHAUDET    IN    HIS    BLUE   OVERALL,    MODELING 
HIS     LATEST    STATUE. 


H.    DE    BALZAC 


A  Bachelor's 

Establishment 

(UN  Menage  de  garcon) 

AND  OTHER    STORIES 


TKANSLATEU    BY 


CLARA    BELL 


WITH  A   PKEFACE  BY 


GEORGE    SAINTSBURY 


^ 


PHILADELPHIA 

The  (Debbie  Publishing  Co.,  Ltd. 
1898     - 


CONTENTS. 


704717 


rAGB 

ix 


PREFACE 

A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT         .        .        .        .  i 

PEACE   IN  THE  HOUSE S*' 

LA    GRENADIERE 3^2 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


SHE     FOUND     CHAUDET     IN     HIS     BLUE    OVERALL,    MODELING    HIS 

LATEST  STATUE     (p.  27) Frtntts^itce. 

rAGK 

PHILIPPE'S    FIRST   IDEA   WAS   TO    SEARCH   THE   BED  ...         76 

"WHERE   DO   YOU   COME   FROM,    LITTLE   ONE?     I    NEVER    SAW   YOU 

BEFORE" 139 

"riCK   IT  up!"    HE  SAID,   PAUSING   IN  THE   FIGHT         .  ,  .      282 

AGaTHE   DROPPED   THE   LETTER 3O3 

Drawn  by  D.  Murray-Smith, 


PREFACE. 

"A  Bachelor's  Establishment  " — the  third  part  of  "  Les 
Celibataires  "  (The  Bachelors) — takes  very  high  rank  among 
its  companions.  As  in  most  of  his  best  books,  Balzac  has  set 
at  work  divers  favorite  springs  of  action,  and  has  introduced 
personages  of  whom  he  has  elsewhere  given,  not  exactly  rep- 
licas— he  never  did  that — but  companion  portraits.  And  he 
has  once  more  justified  the  proceeding  amply.  Whether  he 
has  not  also  justified  the  reproach,  such  as  it  is,  of  those  who 
say  that  to  see  the  most  congenial  expression  of  his  fullest 
genius,  you  must  go  to  his  bad  characters  and  not  to  his 
good,  readers  shall  determine  for  themselves  after  reading  the 
book. 

It  was  the  product  of  the  year  1842,  when  the  author  was 
at  the  ripest  of  his  powers,  and  after  which,  with  the  exception 
of  *'Les  Parents  Pauvres,"  he  produced  not  much  of  his  very 
best  save  in  continuations  and  rehandlings  of  earlier  efforts. 
He  changed  his  title  a  good  deal,  and  in  that  MS.  correction 
of  a  copy  of  the  "  Comedie"  which  has  been  taken,  perhaps 
without  absolutely  decisive  authority,  as  the  basis  of  the 
Edition  Definitive,  he  adopted  "  La  Rabouilleuse  "  as  his  latest 
favorite.  This,  besides  its  quaintness,  has  undoubted  merit 
as  fixing  the  attention  on  one  at  least  of  the  chief  figures  of 
the  book,  while  "  Un  Menage  de  gargon  "  only  obliquely  indi- 
cates the  real  purport  of  the  novel.  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  is  a 
most  unfortunate  creature,  who  anticipates  Baron  Hulot  as  an 
example  of  absolute  dependence  on  things  of  the  flesh,  plus 
a  kind  of  cretinism,  which  Hulot,  to  do  him  justice,  does  not 
exhibit  even  in  his  worst  degradation.  But  his  "  bachelor 
establishment,"  though  undoubtedly  useful  for  the  purposes 
of  the  story,  might  have  been  changed  for  something  else,  and 

(ix) 


PREFACE. 


his  personality  have  been  considerably  altered  without  very 
much  affecting  the  general  drift  of  the  fiction. 

Flore  Brazier,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Rabouilleuse  herself, 
is  essential,  and  with  Maxence  Gilet  and  Philippe  Bridau 
form  the  centre  of  the  action  and  the  passion  of  the  book. 
She  ranks,  indeed,  with  those  few  feminine  types,  Valerie  Mar- 
neffe.  La  Cousine  Bette,  Eugenie  Grandet,  Beatrix,  Madame 
de  Maufrigneuse,  and  perhaps  Esther  Gobseck,  whom  Balzac 
has  tried  to  draw  at  full  length.  It  is  to  be  observed  that 
though  quite  without  morals  of  any  kind,  she  is  not  ab  initio 
or  intrinsically  a  she-fiend  like  Valerie  or  Lisbeth.  She  does 
not  do  harm  for  harm's  sake,  nor  even  directly  to  gratify  spite, 
greed,  or  other  purely  unsocial  and  detestable  passions.  She 
is  a  type  of  feminine  sensuality  of  the  less  ambitious  and  rest- 
less sort.  Given  a  decent  education,  a  fair  fortune,  a  good- 
looking  and  vigorous  husband  to  whom  she  had  taken  a  fancy, 
and  no  special  temptation,  and  she  might  have  been  a  blame- 
less, merry,  "  sonsy  "  commere,  and  have  died  in  an  odor  of 
very  reasonable  sanctity.  Poverty,  ignorance,  the  Rougets 
(father  and  son),  Maxence  Gilet,  and  Philippe  Bridau  came  in 
her  way,  and  she  lived  and  died  as  Balzac  has  shown  her.  He 
has  done  nothing  more  "  inevitable;  "  itv,'  things  more  com- 
plete and  satisfactory. 

Maxence  Gilet  is  a  not  much  less  remarkable  sketch,  though 
it  is  not  easy  to  say  that  he  is  on  the  same  level.  Gilet  is  the 
man  of  distinct  gifts,  of  some  virtues,  or  caricatures  of  virtues, 
who  goes  to  the  devil  through  idleness,  fullness  of  bread,  and 
lack  of  any  worthy  occupation.  He  is  extraordinarily  uncon- 
ventional for  a  French  figure  in  fiction  drawn  by  such  a  French 
genius  as  Balzac.  But  he  is  also  hardly  to  be  called  a  great 
type,  and  I  do  not  quite  see  why  he  should  have  succumbed 
before  Philippe  as  he  did. 

Philippe  himself  is  more  complicated,  and,  perhaps,  more 
questionable.  He  is  certainly  one  of  Balzac's  Jleurs  du  mal ,- 
he  is  studied  and  personally  conducted  from  beginning  to  end 


PREFACE.  XI 

with  an  extraordinary  and  loving  care;  but  is  he  quite  "  of  a 
piece?"  That  he  should  have  succeeded  in  defeating  the 
combination  against  which  his  virtuous  mother  and  brother 
failed  is  not  an  undue  instance  of  the  irony  of  life.  The  de- 
feat of  such  adversaries  as  Flore  and  Max  has,  of  course,  the 
merit  of  poetical  justice  and  the  interest  of  "diamond  cut 
diamond."  But  is  not  the  terrible  Philippe  Bridau,  the 
"  Mephistopheles  a  chevaV  of  the  latter  part  of  the  book, 
rather  inconsistent  with  the  commonplace  ne'er-do-weel  of  the 
earlier  ?  Not  only  does  it  require  no  unusual  genius  to  waste 
money,  when  you  have  it,  in  the  channels  of  the  drinking-shop, 
the  gaming-table,  and  elsewhere,  to  sponge  for  more  on  your 
mother  and  brother,  to  embezzle  when  they  are  squeezed  dry, 
and  to  take  to  downright  robbery  when  nothing  else  is  left ; 
but  a  person  who,  in  the  various  circumstances  and  oppor- 
tunities of  Bridau,  finds  nothing  better  to  do  than  these 
ordinary  things,  can  hardly  be  a  person  of  exceptional  intel- 
lectual resource.  There  is  here,  surely,  that  sudden  and  unac- 
counted-for change  of  character  which  the  second-rate  novelist 
and  dramatist  may  permit  himself,  but  from  which  the  first-rate 
should  abstain. 

This,  however,  may  be  an  academic  objection,  and  certainly 
the  book  is  of  first-class  interest.  The  minor  characters,  the 
mother  and  brother,  the  luckless  aunt,  with  her  combination 
at  last  turning  up  when  the  rascal  Philippe  has  stolen  her 
stake-money,  the  satellites  and  abettors  of  Max  in  the  club  of 
'*La  Desoeuvrance,"  the  slightly  theatrical  Spaniard,  and  all 
the  rest  of  them,  are  excellent.  The  book  is  an  eminently 
characteristic  one — more  so,  indeed,  than  more  than  one  of 
those  in  which  people  are  often  invited  to  make  acquaintance 
with  Balzac. 

The  third  story  of  "Les  Celibataires"  has  a  rather  more  va- 
ried bibliographical  history  than  the  others.  The  first  part,  that 
dealing  with  the  early  misconduct  of  Philippe  Bridau,  was  pub- 
lished separately,  as  "Les  Deux  Freres,"  in  the  Presse  during 


xii  PREFACE. 

the  spring  of  1841,  and  a  year  or  so  later  in  volumes.  It  had 
nine  chapters  with  headings.  The  volume  form  also  included 
under  the  same  title  the  second  part,  which,  as  "  Un  Menage 
de  gar^on  en  Province,"  had  been  published  in  the  same 
newspaper  in  the  autumn  of  1842.  This  had  sixteen  chapters 
in  both  issues,  and  in  the  volumes  two  part-headings — one 
identical  with  the  newspaper  title,  and  the  other  "A  qui  la 
Succession  ?  "  The  whole  book  then  took  rank  in  the  *'  Com- 
edie  "  under  the  second  title,  "  Un  Menage  de  gargon,"  and 
retained  this  during  Balzac's  life  and  long  afterwards.  In  the 
Edition  Definitive,  as  observed  above,  he  had  marked  it  as 
"La  Rabouilleuse,"  after  also  having  thought  of  "Le  Bon- 
homme  Rouget."  For  English  use,  the  better  known,  though 
not  last  or  best  title,  is  clearly  preferable,  as  it  can  be  trans- 
lated, while  "La  Rabouilleuse  "  cannot. 

The  short  story  of  "  La  Grenadiere,"  which,  by  the  way, 
was  much  twisted  about  in  its  author's  hands,  and  underwent 
transformations  too  long  to  be  summarized  here,  first  appeared 
in  the  Revue  de  Paris  for  October,  1832,  was  a  "Scene  de  la 
vie  de  Province"  next  year,  and  was  shifted  to  the  "Vie 
Privee"  when  the  "  Comedie  "  was  first  arranged. 

The  other  short  story,  "  The  Peace  of  the  House,"  formed 
part  of  the  "  Scenes  de  la  vie  Privee  "  from  their  first  appear- 
ance in  1830,  and  entered  with  the  rest  into  the  "  Comddie." 
Then,  and  then  only,  was  the  dedication  to  Valentine  Survillc, 
Balzac's  niece,  added.  G.  S. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

To  Monsieur  Charles  Nodier, 

Member  of  the  French  Academy, 

Chief  Librarian  at  the  Arsenal. 

Here,  my  dear  JVodier,  you  have  a  book  full  of 
those  incidents  which  escape  the  action  of  the  law 
under  the  shelter  of  domestic  privacy  ;  but  in  which 
the  finger  of  God,  so  often  called  chance,  takes  the 
place  of  human  justice,  while  the  moral  is  not  the  less 
striking  and  instructive  for  being  uttered  by  a  satirist. 
The  outcome,  to  my  mind,  is  a  great  lesson  for  the 

family,  and  for  motherhood.  We  shall  perhaps  dis- 
cover too  late  the  effects  of  diminished  paternal  power. 
That  authority,   which  formerly  ceased  only  on  the 

father's  death,  constituted  the  one  human  tribunal  at 
which  domestic  crimes  could  be  tried,  and  on  great 
occasions  the  sovereign  would  ratify  and  carry  out  its 
decisions.  However  tender  and  kind  the  mother  may 
be,  she  can  no  more  supply  that  patriarchal  rule  than 
a  woman  can  fill  a  man' s  place  on  the  throne  ;  when 
the  exception  occurs,  the  creature  is  a  monster. 

I  have  never,  perhaps,  drawn  a  picture  which 
shows  more  clearly  than  this  how  indispensable  the 
stability  of  marriage  is  to  European  society,  what  the 
sorrows  are  of  woman' s  weakness,  what  dangers  are 
involved  in  unbridled  self-interest.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  a  society  based  solely  on  the  power  of  money  may 
tremble  when  it  sees  the  impotence  of  justice  over  the 

[Note:  This  story  forms  the  third  part  of  "  The  Celibates"  and  con- 
stitutes Balzac's  second  volume  under  that  title. — Pub.] 

Ml) 


2  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

complications  of  a  system  which  deifies  success  and 
condones  every  means  to  achieve  it:  That  it  may 
have  prompt  recourse  to  the  Catholic  church  for  purifi' 
cation  of  the  masses  by  religious  feeling,  and  by  sonic 
education  other  than  that  of  a  lay  University ! 
Enough  fine  characters,  enough  instances  of  great  and 
noble  devotion  will  have  been  seen  in  my  ''Scenes  of 
Military  Life ;  "  so  I  may  be  allowed  here  to  show 
what  depravity  results  from  the  exigencies  of  war  in 
certain  tninds  which  dare  to  act  in  private  life  as  they 
would  on  the  field  of  battle. 

You  have  studied  our  times  with  a  sagacious  eye, 
and  your  philosophy  betrays  itself  by  more  than  one 
bitter  reflection  in  the  course  of  your  elegant  pages ; 
you,  better  than  any  one,  have  appreciated  the  mischief 
done  to  the  spirit  of  our  nation  by  four  different  politi- 
cal systems. 

I  could  not,  therefore,  place  this  narrative  under 
the  protection  of  a  more  competent  authority.  Your 
name,  perhaps,  may  defend  this  work  against  the  out- 
cry it  is  sure  to  raise.  Where  is  there  a  sufferer  7vho 
keeps  silence  when  the  surgeon  uncovers  his  most  burn- 
ing wounds  ?  The  pleasure  of  dedicating  this  drama 
to  you  is  enhanced  by  my  pride  in  betraying  your  good- 
will for  him  who  here  signs  himself  one  of  your  sincere 
adtnirers, 

De  Balzac. 

In  1792  the  citizens  of  Issoudun  rejoiced  in  a  doctor 
named  Rouget,  who  was  regarded  as  a  very  deep  fox.  Some 
bold  folks  asserted  that  he  made  his  wife  very  unhappy, 
though  she  was  the  handsomest  woman  in  the  town.  Perhaps 
this  wife  was  rather  a  simpleton.  In  spite  of  the  inquisitive- 
ness  of  friends,  the  gossip  of  outsiders,  and  the  evil-speaking 
of  the  envious,  the  circumstances  of  the  household  were  little 


A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  3 

known.  Doctor  Rouget  was  one  of  the  men  of  whom  it  is 
commonly  said  that  "they  are  not  easy  to  get  on  with." 
And  so,  as  long  as  he  lived,  little  was  said  about  him,  and  he 
was  treated  civilly. 

His  wife,  a  Demoiselle  Descoings,  somewhat  sickly  as  a 
girl — one  reason,  it  was  said,  why  the  doctor  married  her — 
had  first  a  son,  and  then  a  daughter,  born  as  it  happened  ten 
years  after  her  brother,  and  not  expected  by  the  doctor,  it 
was  always  reported,  though  he  was  a  medical  man.  This 
late-born  daughter  was  named  Agathe. 

These  facts  are  so  simple  and  commonplace  that  the  histo- 
rian hardly  seems  justified  in  placing  them  in  the  forefront  of 
his  narrative ;  but  if  they  remained  unknown,  a  man  of  Doc- 
tor Rouget's  temper  would  be  condemned  as  a  monster,  as 
an  unnatural  father,  whereas  he  simply  obeyed  certain  evil 
promptings  which  many  persons  defend  under  the  terrible 
axiom  :  "A  man  must  know  his  own  mind."  This  masculine 
motto  has  wrought  misery  for  many  wives.  The  Descoings, 
the  doctor's  father- and  mother-in-law,  wool  brokers,  under- 
took alike  the  sale  for  landowners,  or  the  purchase  for  wool- 
merchants  of  the  golden  fleeces  of  Le  Berry,  and  took  com- 
mission from  both  parties.  They  grew  rich  over  this  business, 
and  then  avaricious — the  moral  of  many  lives. 

Their  son,  Descoings y?/«/^r,  a  younger  brother  of  Madame 
Rouget's,  did  not  like  Issoudun.  He  went  to  seek  his  fortune 
in  Paris,  and  set  up  as  a  grocer  in  the  Rue  Saint-Honore. 
This  was  his  ruin.  But  what  is  to  be  said  ?  A  grocer  is  at- 
tracted to  his  business  by  a  magnetic  force  as  great  as  the 
repulsion  which  renders  it  odious  to  artists.  The  social  forces 
which  make  for  this  or  that  vocation  have  been  insufficiently 
studied.  It  would  be  curious  to  know  what  leads  a  man  to 
become  a  stationer  rather  than  a  baker,  when  he  is  no  longer 
compelled,  as  among  the  Egyptians,  to  succeed  to  his  father's 
craft.  Love  had  helped  to  form  Descoings'  vocation.  He 
had  said  to  himself,  "And  I,  too,  will  be  a  grocer  !  "  when 


4  A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

he  had  also  said  something  else  on  seeing  his  master's  wife,  a 
beautiful  creature,  with  whom  he  fell  over  head  and  ears  in 
love.  With  no  auxiliary  but  patience  and  a  little  money  sent 
him  by  his  father  and  mother,  he  married  the  widow  of  the 
worthy  Master  Bixiou,  his  predecessor.  In  1792  Descoings 
was  regarded  as  a  prosperous  man. 

At  that  time  the  parents  Descoings  were  still  living.  They 
had  retired  from  wool,  and  invested  their  wealth  in  buying 
government  stock — another  golden  fleece  !  Their  son-in-law, 
almost  sure  ere  long  to  be  in  mourning  for  his  wife,  sent  his 
daughter  to  his  brother-in-law's  house  in  Paris,  partly  that  she 
might  see  the  capital,  but  also  with  a  crafty  purpose.  Desco- 
ings had  no  children.  Madame  Descoings,  twelve  years  older 
than  her  husband,  was  in  excellent  health,  but  she  was  as 
fat  as  a  thrush  after  the  vintage  ;  and  the  wily  Rouget  had 
enough  medical  skill  to  foresee  that  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Descoings,  in  contradiction  to  the  philosophy  of  fairy-tales, 
would  live  happy  and  have  no  children.  The  couple  might 
become  devoted  to  Agathe.  Now  Doctor  Rouget  wanted  to 
disinherit  his  daughter,  and  flattered  himself  it  might  be  done 
if  he  transplanted  her  from  home. 

This  young  person,  at  that  time  the  handsomest  girl  in 
Issoudun,  was  not  in  the  least  like  either  her  father  or  her 
mother.  Her  birth  had  been  the  occasion  of  a  mortal  feud 
between  Doctor  Rouget  and  his  intimate  friend,  Monsieur 
Lousteau,  formerly  a  sub-delegate,  who  had  just  left  Issoudun. 
When  a  family  migrates,  the  natives  of  a  place  so  delightful 
as  Issoudun  have  a  right  to  inquire  into  the  reasons  of  so 
unheard-of  a  step.  To  believe  some  sharp  tongues,  Monsieur 
Rouget,  a  vindictive  man,  had  sworn  that  Lousteau  should 
die  by  his  hand  alone.  From  a  doctor  the  speech  seemed  as 
deadly  as  a  cannon-ball.  When  tlie  National  Assembly  abol- 
ished delegates,  Lousteau  left,  and  iiever  returned  to  Issoudun. 
After  the  removal  of  this  family,  Madame  Rouget  spent  all 
her  days  with  Madame  Hochon,  the  ex-sub-delegate's  sister, 


A   BACH  FLORAS  ESTABLISHMENT.  5 

her  daughter's  godmother,  and  the  only  person  to  whom  she 
confided  her  woes.  And  what  little  the  citizens  of  Issoudun 
ever  knew  about  the  beautiful  Madame  Rouget  was  told  by 
this  good  soul,  and  not  till  after  the  doctor's  death. 

The  first  thing  Madame  Rouget  said  when  her  husband 
spoke  of  sending  Agathe  to  Paris  was,  "  I  shall  never  see  my 
child  again  !  "  "  And  she  was  sadly  right,"  worthy  Madame 
Hochon  would  add. 

The  poor  mother  then  became  as  yellow  as  a  quince,  and 
her  condition  by  no  means  gave  the  lie  to  those  who  declared 
that  Rouget  was  killing  her  by  inches.  The  ways  of  her 
gawky  ninny  of  a  son  must  have  contributed  to  the  griefs  of 
the  unjustly  accused  mother.  Never  checked,  or  perhaps 
egged  on  by  his  father,  the  lad,  who  was  altogether  stupid, 
showed  his  mother  none  of  the  attention  nor  the  respect  due 
from  a  son.  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  was  like  his  father,  but 
even  worse;  and  the  doctor  was  not  very  admirable,  either 
morally  or  physically. 

The  advent  of  charming  Agathe  Rouget  brought  no  good 
to  her  uncle  Descoings.  In  the  course  of  the  week — or  rather 
of  the  decade,  for  the  Republic  had  been  proclaimed — he  was 
imprisoned  on  a  hint  from  Robespierre  to  Fouqnier-Tinville. 
Descoings,  being  rash  enough  to  opine  that  the  famine  was 
unreal,  was  fool  enough  to  communicate  his  opinion — he 
imagined  that  thought  was  free — to  several  of  his  customers, 
male  and  female,  as  he  served  them  over  the  counter.  Cit- 
j  oyenne  Duplay,  the  wife  of  the  carpenter  with  whom 
Robespierre  lodged,  and  herself  the  Great  Citizen's  house- 
keeper, unhappily  for  Descoings,  honored  his  shop  with  her 
custom.  This  citizeness  considered  the  grocer's  views  as 
an  insult  to  Maximilian  the  First.  Ill  pleased  as  she  was 
by  the  manners  of  the  Descoings  couple,  this  illustrious 
knitter  of  the  Jacobin  Club  regarded  Citoyenne  Descoings' 
beauty  as  a  kind  of  aristocracy.     She  added  venom  to  their 


6  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

language  while  lepeaung  it  to  her  benevolent  and  kind- 
hearted  master.  The  grocer  was  arrested  on  the  usual  charge 
of  "monopolizing." 

Descoings  in  prison,  his  wife  made  a  stir  to  obtain  his 
release ;  but  her  efforts  were  so  ill-judged  that  any  observer 
hearing  her  appeal  to  the  arbiters  of  his  fate  might  have 
supposed  that  all  she  asked  was  a  decent  way  of  getting 
rid  of  him.  Madame  Descoings  knew  Bridau,  one  of  the 
secretaries  under  Roland,  minister  of  the  interior,  and  the 
right-hand  man  of  all  who  succeeded  to  that  office.  She 
brought  Bridau  into  the  field  to  save  the  grocer.  This  really 
incorruptible  minister,  one  of  those  virtuous  dupes  who  are 
always  so  admirably  disinterested,  took  good  care  not  to 
tamper  with  the  men  on  whom  Descoings'  fate  depended ;  he 
tried  to  explain  !  Now,  to  explain  to  the  men  of  that  time 
had  about  as  much  effect  as  though  they  had  been  asked  to 
restore  the  Bourbons.  The  Girondin  minister,  at  that  time 
combating  Robespierre,  said  to  Bridau,  "  What  business  is 
it  of  yours?  "  And  each  man  to  whom  the  worthy  secretary 
applied  made  the  same  ruthless  reply,  "What  business  is  it. 
of  yours?  " 

Bridau  very  prudently  advised  Madame  Descoings  to  keep 
quiet ;  but  she  instead  of  conciliating  Robespierre's  house- 
keeper, spouted  fire  and  flame  against  the  informer;  she  went 
to  see  a  member  of  the  Convention,  who  was  in  fear  for  him- 
self, and  who  said,  "  I  will  speak  of  it  to  Robespierre." 

On  this  promise  the  grocer's  wife  rested,  and  her  protector 
naturally  did  not  speak.  A  few  sugar-loaves,  a  few  bottles  of 
good  liquor  offered  to  Citoyenne  Duplay  would  have  saved 
Descoings. 

This  little  incident  shows  that  in  a  revolution  it  is  as  dan- 
gerous to  trust  for  safety  to  an  honest  man  as  to  a  scoundrel ; 
one  can  rely  only  on  one's  self. 

Though  Descoings  died,  he  had  the  honor,  at  any  rate,  of 
going  to  the  scaffold  with  Andre  de  Chenier.    There,  no  doubt, 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  7 

grocery  and  poetry  embraced  for  the  first  time  in  the  flesh  ;  for 
they  have  alway  had,  and  will  always  have,  their  private  rela- 
tions. Descoings'  execution  made  a  far  greater  sensation  than 
Andre  de  Chenier's.  Thirty  years  elapsed  before  it  was  recog- 
nized that  France  had  lost  more  by  Chenier's  death  than  by 
that  of  Descoings. 

Robespierre's  sentence  had  this  good  result — until  1830 
grocers  were  still  afraid  of  meddling  in  politics. 

Descoings'  store  was  not  more  than  a  hundred  yards  from 
Robespierre's  lodgings.  The  grocer's  successor  failed  in  busi- 
ness ;  Cesar  Birotteau,  the  famous  perfumer,  established  him- 
self in  the  house.  But,  as  if  the  scaffold  had  infected  the 
place  with  disaster,  the  inventor  of  the  "Compound  Sultana 
Paste  "  and  "  Eau  Carminative  "  was  also  ruined.  The  solu- 
tion of  this  problem  is  a  matter  for  occult  science. 

In  the  course  of  the  few  visits  paid  by  the  head  clerk  to  the 
luckless  Descoings'  wife,  he  was  struck  by  the  calm,  cold,  art- 
less beauty  of  Agathe  Rouget.  When  he  called  to  console 
the  widow,  who  was  so  far  inconsolable  as  to  retire  from  the 
business  after  her  second  bereavement,  he  ended  by  marrying 
the  lovely  girl  in  the  course  of  a  "decade,"  as  soon  as  her 
father  could  arrive,  and  he  did  not  keep  them  waiting.  The 
doctor,  delighted  at  seeing  things  turn  out  even  better  than 
he  had  hoped,  since  his  wife  was  the  sole  heiress  of  the  Des- 
coings, flew  to  Paris,  not  so  much  to  be  present  at  Agathe's 
marriage  as  to  see  that  the  settlements  were  drawn  to  his 
mind.  Citizen  Bridau,  quite  disinterested  and  desperately 
in  love,  left  this  matter  entirely  to  the  perfidious  doctor,  who 
took  full  advantage  of  his  son-in-law's  infatuation,  as  will  be 
seen  in  the  course  of  this  history. 

Madame  Rouget,  or,  more  accurately,  the  doctor,  inherited 
all  the  estate,  real  and  personal,  of  old  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Descoings,  who  died  within  two  years  of  each  other.  Finally, 
Rouget  got  the  better  of  his  wife,  for  she  died  early  in  1799. 
And  he  had  vineyards,  and  he  bought  farmland,  and  he  ac- 


8  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

quired  iron-works,  and  he  sold  wool  !  His  beloved  son  could 
never  do  anything ;  he  intended  that  the  boy  should  be  a 
landed  proprietor,  and  allowed  him  to  grow  up  in  wealth  and 
folly,  confident  that  he  would  know  as  much  as  the  most 
learned  of  them  all  in  so  far  as  that  he  would  live  and  die  like 
other  folks. 

From  the  year  1 799,  the  calculating  heads  of  Issoudun  said 
that  old  Rouget  had  thirty  thousand  francs  a  year.  After  his 
wife's  death  the  doctor  still  led  a  dissolute  life,  but  with  more 
method,  so  to  speak,  and  in  the  privacy  of  home-life. 

The  doctor,  a  man  of  strong  will,  died  in  1805.  God 
knows  what  the  good  people  of  Issoudun  had  then  to  tell  of 
the  man's  doings,  and  what  stories  were  current  of  his  horrible 
private  life.  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  whom  his  father  had  of 
late  kept  tightly  in  hand,  having  discerned  him  to  be  a  fool, 
remained  unmarried  for  sufficient  reasons,  of  which  the  ex- 
planation will  form  an  important  part  of  this  story.  His 
celibacy  was  in  part  the  doctor's  fault,  as  will  be  fully  under- 
stood later. 

It  is  now  necessary  to  consider  the  results  of  the  vengeance 
visited  by  the  father  on  the  daughter,  whom  he  did  not  recog- 
nize as  his,  though  you  may  take  it  for  certain  that  she  was 
his  legitimate  offspring.  Nobody  at  Issoudon  had  observed 
one  of  those  singular  coincidences  which  make  heredity  a  sort 
of  maze  in  which  science  loses  herself.  Agathe  was  very  like 
Doctor  Rouget's  mother.  Just  as  gout  is  commonly  observed 
to  skip  a  generation,  and  to  be  transmitted  from  grandfather 
to  grandson,  so,  not  unfrequently,  a  likeness  does  the  same  as 
the  gout. 

Thus  Agathe's  eldest  child,  who  was  like  his  mother,  in 
character  resembled  his  grandfather,  Doctor  Rouget.  We 
will  leave  the  solution  of  this  problem  also  to  the  twentieth 
century,  with  that  of  the  nomenclature  of  microscopic  organ- 
isms, and  our  grandchildren  will  perhaps  write  as  much  more 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  9 

nonsense  as  our  learned  societies  have  already  produced  on 
this  obscure  question. 

Agathe  Rouget  was  universally  admired  for  one  of  those 
faces  which,  like  that  of  Mary,  the  mother  of  the  Lord,  are 
for  ever  virginal,  even  after  marriage.  Her  portrait,  still 
hanging  in  Bridau's  studio,  shows  a  perfectly  oval  face,  spot- 
lessly fair,  without  even  a  freckle,  notwithstanding  her  golden 
hair.  More  than  one  artist,  seeing  the  pure  brow,  the  deli- 
cate nose,  the  shapely  ear,  the  long  lashes  to  eyes  of  the 
deepest  blue,  and  infinitely  mild — a  face,  in  short,  that  is  the 
embodiment  of  placidity — asks  the  great  painter  to  this  day, 
*'  Is  that  copied  from  one  of  Raphael's  heads?  " 

No  man  ever  made  a  better  choice  than  did  the  Republican 
official  when  he  married  this  girl.  Agathe  was  the  ideal 
housewife,  trained  by  a  country  life,  and  never  parted  from 
her  mother.  She  was  pious  without  bigotry,  and  had  no 
learning  but  such  as  the  church  allows  to  women.  And  she 
was  a  perfect  wife  in  the  vulgar  sense  of  the  word  ;  indeed, 
her  ignorance  of  life  involved  her  in  more  than  one  misfor- 
tune. The  epitaph  on  the  Roman  matron,  "  She  wrought 
needlework,  and  kept  the  house,"  is  an  excellent  account  of 
her  pure,  simple,  and  quiet  life. 

At  the  time  of  the  Consulate,  Bridau  attached  himself 
fanatically  to  Napoleon,  who  made  him  head  of  a  department 
of  state  in  1804,  a  year  before  Rouget' s  death.  Rich  with  a 
salary  of  twelve  thousand  francs  and  very  handsome  presents, 
Bridau  cared  not  at  all  for  the  disgraceful  proceedings  by 
which  the  estate  was  wound  up  at  Issoudun,  and  Agathe  got 
nothing.  Six  months  before  his  death  old  Rouget  had  sold 
part  of  his  estate  to  his  son,  to  whom  he  secured  the  re- 
mainder, in  part  by  deed  of  gift,  and  in  part  as  his  direct 
heir.  An  advance  on  her  prospective  inheritance  of  a  hun- 
dred thousand  francs  secured  under  her  marriage  settlement 
represented  Agathe's  share  of  her  father's  and  mother's  for- 
tune. 


10  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

IJi  idau  idolized  the  Emperor.  He  devoted  himself  with 
the  zeal  of  a  fanatic  to  carrying  out  the  vast  conceptions  of 
this  modern  demi-god,  who,  finding  everything  in  France  in 
ruins,  set  to  work  to  reconstruct  everything.  His  subordinate 
never  said,  "Stay,  enough."  Schemes,  drafts,  reports, 
precis,  he  undertook  the  heaviest  burdens,  so  happy  was  he  to 
assist  the  Emperor.  He  loved  him  as  a  man,  he  adored  him 
as  a  sovereign,  and  would  never  endure  the  slightest  criticism 
of  his  deeds  or  his  schemes. 

From  1804  to  1808  the  official  resided  in  a  large  and  hand- 
some apartment  on  the  Quai  Voltaire,  close  to  his  office  and 
the  Tuileries.  A  cook  and  a  manservant  composed  the  estab- 
lishment in  the  days  of  Madame  Bridau's  splendor.  Agathe, 
always  up  the  first,  went  to  market,  followed  by  her  cook ; 
while  the  man  did  the  rooms  she  superintended  the  breakfast. 
Briilau  never  went  to  the  office  before  eleven  o'clock.  As 
long  as  they  both  lived  his  wife  found  every  day  the  same 
pleasure  in  preparing  for  him  a  perfect  breakfast,  the  only 
meal  he  ate  with  enjoyment.  All  the  year  round,  whatever 
the  weather  might  be,  Agathe  watched  her  husband  from  the 
window  on  his  way  to  the  office,  and  never  drew  her  head  in 
till  he  disappeared  round  the  corner  of  the  Rue  du  Bac.  She 
cleared  the  table  herself,  and  looked  round  the  rooms;  then 
she  dressed  and  played  with  the  children,  or  took  them  for  a 
walk,  or  received  visitors  till  her  husband  returned.  When 
the  head  clerk  brought  home  pressing  work  she  would  sit  by 
his  table  in  his  study,  as  mute  as  a  statue,  and  knitting  as  she 
watched  him  at  work,  sitting  up  as  long  as  he  did,  and  going 
to  bed  a  few  minutes  before  he  went. 

Sometimes  they  went  to  the  play,  sitting  in  the  official  box. 
On  such  occasions  the  pair  dined  at  a  restaurant  ;  and  the 
scene  it  presented  always  afforded  Madame  Bridau  the  keen 
delight  it  gives  to  persons  unfamiliar  with  Paris.  Compelled, 
not  unfrequentlyj  to  accept  invitations  to  the  huge  formal 
dinners  given  to  her  husband  as  head  of  a  department  and 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  11 

chief  clerk  of  a  section  of  the  ministry  of  the  interior — din- 
ners which  Bridau  duly  returned — Agathe  then  followed  the 
expensive  fashions  of  the  day  ;  but  on  coining  in  she  gladly 
dropped  this  ceremonial  splendor,  and  relapsed  at  home  into 
provincial  simplicity.  Once  a  week,  on  Thursdays,  Bridau 
entertained  his  friends,  and  on  Shrove-Tuesday  he  always 
gave  a  grand  ball. 

This  brief  record  is  the  whole  history  of  a  married  life 
which  saw  but  three  events — the  birth  of  two  children,  one 
three  years  younger  than  the  other,  and  Bridau's  death,  which 
took  place  in  1808;  he  was  simply  killed  by  night-work,  just 
as  the  Emperor  was  about  to  promote  him  in  his  office,  and 
to  make  him  a  count  and  privy  councilor.  At  this  time 
Napoleon  was  devoting  his  attention  to  home  administration  ; 
he  overloaded  Bridau  with  work,  and  finally  undermined  this 
valiant  official's  health.  Napoleon,  of  whom  Bridau  had 
never  asked  the  least  thing,  had  inquired  into  his  style  of 
living  and  his  fortune.  On  hearing  that  this  devoted  servant 
had  nothing  but  his  salary,  he  understood  that  here  was  one 
of  those  incorruptible  creatures  who  gave  dignity  and  moral 
tone  to  his  rule,  and  he  intended  to  surprise  Bridau  by  some 
magnificent  recompense.  It  was  his  anxiety  to  finish  an  im- 
mense piece  of  work  before  Napoleon  should  start  for  Spain 
that  killed  this  worthy  man,  by  bringing  on  an  attack  of  acute 
fever. 

On  the  Emperor's  return,  while  in  Paris  for  a  few  days 
preparing  for  the  campaign  of  1809,  on  hearing  of  Bridau's 
death,  he  exclaimed,  "There  are  some  men  who  can  never 
be  replaced  !  "  Struck  by  a  devotion  that  could  never  have 
expected  such  dazzling  rewards  as  he  reserved  for  his  soldiers, 
Napoleon  determined  to  create  an  order,  with  handsome  pen- 
sions attached,  for  his  civil  servants,  as  he  had  founded  that 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor  for  the  military.  The  impression 
made  on  him  by  Bridau's  death  suggested  the  formation  of 
the  Order  of  the  Reunion  ;  but  he  never  had  time  to  complete 


12  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

the  organization  of  this  aristocratic  class,  which  is  now  so 
utterly  forgotten  that,  on  meeting  with  the  name  of  this 
ephemeral  order,  most  readers  will  wonder  what  was  its  badge : 
it  was  worn  with  a  blue  ribbon.  The  Emperor  styled  it  the 
Order  of  the  Reunion,  with  the  intention  of  combining  the 
Order  of  the  Golden  Fleece  of  Spain  with  that  of  the  Golden 
Fleece  of  Austria.  But  Providence,  as  a  Prussian  diplomat 
said,  was  able  to  hinder  such  profanation. 

The  Emperor  inquired  into  Madame  Bridau's  circumstances. 
The  two  boys  had  each  a  full  scholarship  at  the  Lycee  Impe- 
rial, and  the  Emperor  charged  all  the  cost  of  their  education 
to  his  privy  purse.  He  then  entered  Madame  Bridau's  name 
on  the  pension  list  for  four  thousand  francs  a  year,  intending, 
no  doubt,  also  to  provide  ultimately  for  her  two  sons,  Philippe 
and  Joseph. 

After  her  marriage  till  her  husband's  death,  Madame  Bridau 
had  no  correspondence  whatever  with  Issoudun.  Immediately 
before  the  birth  of  her  second  boy  she  heard  of  her  mother's 
death.  When  her  father  died — she  knew  that  he  had  loved 
her  but  little — the  Emperor's  coronation  was  imminent,  and 
the  ceremony  gave  her  husband  so  much  to  do  tliat  she  would 
not  leave  him.  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  her  brother,  had  never 
written  her  a  word  since  she  had  quitted  Issoudun.  Though 
grieved  by  this  tacit  repudiation  by  her  family,  Agathe  at  last 
thought  but  seldom  of  tliose  who  never  thought  of  her  at  all. 
She  received  a  letter  once  a  year  from  her  godmother, 
Madame  Hochon,  and  answered  it  in  commonplace  phrases, 
never  heeding  the  warnings  which  the  worthy  and  pious 
woman  gave  her  in  veiled  hints. 

Some  time  before  Doctor  Rouget's  death,  Madame  Hochon 
had  written  to  her  goddaughter  that  she  would  get  nothing 
from  her  father,  unless  she  armed  Monsieur  Hochon  with  a 
power  of  attorney.  Agathe  hated  the  idea  of  worrying  her 
brother.  Whether  Bridau  supposed  that  this  appropriation 
was  in  conformity  with  the  common  law  of  the  province  of 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  13 

Berry,  or  whether  the  clean-handed  and  upright  husband 
shared  his  wife's  magnanimity  and  indifference  to  pecuniary 
interests,  he  would  not  listen  to  Roguin,  his  attorney,  who 
advised  him  to  take  advantage  of  his  high  position  to  dispute 
the  will  by  which  the  father  had  succeeded  in  robbing  his 
daughter  of  her  legal  share.  Husband  and  wife  thus  sanc- 
tioned what  was  done  at  Issoudun.  However,  Roguin  had 
led  the  official  to  reflect  on  the  damage  to  his  wife's  fortune. 
The  worthy  man  perceived  that  in  the  event  of  his  death 
Agathe  would  have  nothing  to  depend  on.  He  then  looked 
into  his  affairs,  and  found  that  between  1793  and  1805  he  and 
his  wife  had  been  obliged  to  draw  out  about  thirty  thousand 
francs  of  the  fifty  thousand  which  old  Rouget  had  given  to 
his  daughter.  He  now  invested  the  remaming  twenty  thou- 
sand in  the  funds,  which  then  stood  at  forty,  so  Agathe  had 
about  two  thousand  francs  a  year  in  state  securities.  Thus,  as 
a  widow,  Madame  Bridau  could  live  very  decently  on  six 
thousand  francs  a  year.  Still  very  provincial,  she  was  about 
to  dismiss  the  manservant,  keep  only  the  cook,  and  move  to 
another  set  of  rooms  ;  but  Madame  Descoings,  her  intimate 
friend,  who  persisted  in  calling  herself  her  aunt,  gave  up  her 
apartment  and  came  to  live  with  Agathe,  taking  the  departed 
Bridau's  study  for  her  bedroom.  The  two  widows  joined 
their  incomes,  and  foimd  themselves  possessed  of  twelve  thou- 
sand francs  a  year. 

Such  an  arrangement  seemed  simple  and  natural.  But 
nothing  in  life  demands  greater  circumspection  than  arrange- 
ments which  seem  natural  ;  we  are  always  on  our  guard 
against  what  appears  extraordinary ;  and  so  we  see  that  men 
of  great  experience — lawyers,  judges,  physicians,  and  priests — 
attach  immense  importance  to  such  simple  matters  ;  and  they 
are  thought  captious.  The  serpent  under  flowers  is  one  of 
the  finest  emblems  bequeathed  to  us  by  the  ancients  as  a 
warning  for  our  conduct.  How  often  does  a  simpleton  ex- 
claim, as  an  excuse  in  his  own  eyes  and  those  of  others,  "  It 


14  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

was  such  a  simple  matter,  that  any  one  would  have  been 
caught !  " 

In  1809  Madame  Descoings,  who  never  told  her  age,  was 
sixty-five  years  old.  Spoken  of  in  her  day  as  "La  Belle 
Epiciere,"  she  was  one  of  those  rare  women  whom  time 
spares,  and  owed  to  an  excellent  constitution  the  privilege  of 
preserving  her  beauty,  though,  of  course,  it  could  no  longer 
bear  serious  examination.  Of  middle  height,  plump  and 
fresh-colored,  she  had  fine  shoulders,  and  a  warmly  fair  skin. 
Her  light  hair,  tending  to  chestnut,  showed  no  change  of  hue  in 
spite  of  Descoings'  disastrous  end.  She  was  extremely  dainty, 
and  liked  cooking  rich  little  dishes  for  her  own  eating  ;  but 
though  she  seemed  devoted  to  the  kitchen,  she  was  also  very 
fond  of  the  theatre,  and,  moreover,  she  indulged  a  vice 
which  she  wrapped  in  the  deepest  mystery — she  put  into  the 
lottery.  Is  not  the  lottery,  perhaps,  the  gulf  which  mythology 
has  figured  under  the  bottomless  vat  of  the  Danaids  ? 

This  woman — we  may  speak  so  of  one  who  gambles  in  the 
lottery — spent  rather  too  much  in  dress,  no  doubt,  like  all 
women  who  are  so  lucky  as  to  remain  youthful  in  advancing 
years  ;  but  with  the  exception  of  these  little  failings,  she  was 
the  easiest  creature  to  live  with.  Ready  to  agree  with  every- 
body, never  contradictory,  she  was  attractive  by  her  gentle 
and  contagious  cheerfulness.  She  had  especially  one  Parisian 
characteristic  which  bewitches  retired  clerks  and  traders — she 
understood  a  joke.  If  she  did  not  marry  a  third  husband, 
that,  no  doubt,  was  the  fault  of  the  times.  During  the  wars 
of  the  Empire,  marrying  men  found  handsome  and  wealthy 
girls  too  readily  to  trouble  their  heads  about  a  woman  of  sixty. 

Madame  Descoings  tried  to  cheer  Madame  Bridau  ;  she 
made  her  go  often  to  the  play,  or  out  driving  ;  she  provided 
her  with  capital  little  dinners  ;  she  even  tried  to  marry  her 
to  her  son  Bixiou.  Alas  !  she  was  forced  to  confess  to  her 
the  terrible  secret  that  had  been  so  jealously  kept,  by  herself, 
by  the  departed  Descoings,  and  by  her  lawyer.     The  youth- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  16 

ful,  dressy  Madame  Descoings,  who  owned  to  no  more  than 
thirty-six,  had  a  son  of  thirty-five  named  Bixiou,  a  widower, 
and  major  of  the  21st  foot,  who  was  afterwards  killed  at 
Dresden,  as  a  colonel,  leaving  an  only  child,  a  boy.  His 
mother,  who  never  saw  her  grandson  but  in  secret,  spoke  of 
the  colonel  as  a  son  of  her  husband's  by  his  first  wife.  Her 
confession  was  an  act  of  expediency ;  the  colonel's  boy,  who 
was  at  school  at  the  Lycee  Imperial  with  the  two  Bridaus, 
held  a  half-scholarship.  This  youth,  very  sharp  and  knowing 
even  in  his  school-days,  made  a  great  reputation  later  as  an 
artist  and  a  wit. 

Agathe  cared  for  nothing  on  earth  but  her  children,  and 
would  live  only  for  them  ;  she  refused  to  marry  again,  alike 
from  good  sense  and  from  faithful  attachment.  But  a  woman 
finds  it  easier  to  be  a  good  wife  than  to  be  a  good  mother. 
A  widoA^  has  two  duties  of  a  contradictory  nature — she  is  a 
mother,  and  she  ought  to  exert  a  father's  power.  Few  women 
are  strong  enough  to  understand  and  play  this  double  part. 
And  so  poor  Agathe,  with  all  her  virtues,  was  the  innocent 
cause  of  many  misfortunes.  As  a  result  of  her  lack  of  insight, 
and  the  trustfulness  habitual  to  lofty  natures,  Agathe  was  the 
victim  of  Madame  Descoings,  who  dragged  her  into  over- 
whelming disaster.  This  woman  had  a  fancy  for  sets  of  three 
numbers,  and  the  lottery  grants  no  credit  to  ticket-holders. 
As  housekeeper,  she  could  spend  the  money  allotted  to  the 
marketing  in  such  ventures,  and  gradually  increased  the  debt 
in  the  hope  of  enriching  her  grandson,  her  dear  Agathe,  and 
the  young  Bridaus.  When  it  amounted  to  ten  thousand  francs 
she  staked  higher  sums,  always  hoping  that  the  favorite  com- 
bination, which  had  not  yet  come  out  in  ten  years,  would 
cover  the  loss.  Then  the  debt  swelled  rapidly.  It  reached 
the  sum  of  twenty  thousand  francs  ;  Madame  Descoings  lost 
her  head,  and  her  numbers  did  not  come  out. 

Then  she  wished  to  pledge  her  fortune  in  order  to  repay 
her  niece,  but  her  lawyer  Roguin  showed  her  that  this  honest 


16  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

scheme  was  impossible.  The  elder  Rouget,  at  the  death  of 
his  brother-in-law  Descoings,  had  taken  over  his  liabilities 
and  assets,  indemnifying  the  widow  by  a  life  annuity,  charged 
on  Jean-Jacques  Rouget's  estate.  No  usurer  would  consent 
to  lend  twenty  thousand  francs  to  a  woman  of  sixty-five  on  a 
life  interest  worth  about  four  thousand,  at  a  time  when  ten 
per  cent,  could  be  gotten  anywhere.  One  morning  Madame 
Descoings  threw  herself  at  her  niece's  feet,  and  v/ith  many 
sobs  confessed  the  state  of  affairs  ;  Madame  Bridau  did  not 
reproach  her.  She  sent  away  the  manservant  and  the  cook  ; 
sold  all  but  the  most  indispensable  furniture  ;  sold  out  three- 
quarters  of  her  state  securities,  paid  everything,  and  gave  up 
her  apartment. 

One  of  the  most  hideous  corners  of  Paris  is,  beyond  doubt, 
the  Rue  Mazarine,  between  the  crossing  of  the  Rue  Guene- 
gaud,  to  where  it  opens  in  the  Rue  de  la  Seine  behind  the 
Palais  de  I'lnstitut.  The  tall,  gray  walls  of  the  college  and 
library  presented  to  the  city  of  Paris  by  Cardinal  Mazarin 
cast  chilling  shadows  over  this  strip  of  street  ;  the  sun  rarely 
shines  on  it,  the  northerly  blast  sweeps  through  it.  The  poor 
ruined  widow  went  to  lodge  on  the  third  floor  of  a  house  in 
this  damp,  dark,  cold  spot. 

Facing  the  house  were  the  buildings  of  the  institute,  where, 
at  that  lime,  were  the  dens  of  the  wild  beasts  known  to  the 
townsfolk  as  artists,  and  to  artists  as  rapins — daubers,  art 
students.  A  man  might  go  in  a  rapin,  and  might  come  out 
with  the  prize  scholarship  at  Rome.  This  transformation  was 
not  affected  without  much  amazing  uproar  at  the  time  of  year 
when  the  competitors  were  shut  up  in  these  cages.  To  take 
the  prize,  the  aspiring  sculptor  had  to  execute,  within  a  given 
time,  a  clay  model  of  a  statue  ;  the  painter,  one  of  the  pic- 
tures you  may  behold  at  the  Ecole  des  Beaux-arts  ;  the  musi- 
cian had  to  compose  a  cantata  ;  tlie  architect,  a  design  for  a 
public  building.     At  the  time  when  these  lines  are  penned, 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  17 

the  menagerie  has  been  transferred  from  those  cold  and  gloomy 
buildings  to  the  elegant  Palace  of  the  Fine  Arts,  a  few  yards 
from  there. 

Madame  Bridau's  windows  commanded  a  view  of  these 
barred  cells,  a  singularly  dreary  lookout.  To  the  north  the 
dome  of  the  Institute  closes  in  the  prospect ;  looking  up  the 
street,  the  only  delectation  for  the  eye  is  the  line  of  hackney 
cabs  on  the  stand  at  the  top  of  the  Rue  Mazarine.  Indeed, 
the  widow  at  last  placed  three  boxes  of  earth  outside  her 
windows,  in  which  she  cultivated  one  of  those  aerial  gardens, 
so  obnoxious  to  the  regulations  of  the  police,  which  somewhat 
purify  the  light  and  air. 

The  house,  backing  against  one  in  the  Rue  de  Seine,  is 
necessarily  shallow  ;  the  staircase  turns  in  a  spiral.  The  third 
floor  is  the  top ;  three  windows  and  three  rooms — a  dining- 
room,  and  a  little  sitting-room,  and  a  bedroom;  at  the  back, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  landing,  a  small  kitchen ;  under  the 
roof  two  boys'  rooms,  and  a  vast  unused  garret.  Madame 
Bridau  chose  this  apartment  for  three  reasons :  the  low  rent, 
only  four  hundred  francs,  so  she  agreed  for  a  nine  years' 
lease  ;  the  nearness  of  her  boys'  school,  for  it  was  not  far 
from  the  Lycee  Imperial  ;  and,  finally,  it  was  in  the  quarter 
where  she  was  accustomed  to  live.  The  interior  of  the  rooms 
was  in  harmony  with  the  building.  The  dining-room,  hung 
with  cheap  flowered  paper  in  yellow  and  green,  with  an  un- 
polished tiled  floor,  had  the  barest  necessary  furniture — a 
table,  two  little  sideboards,  and  six  chairs  brought  from  her 
old  home.  The  drawing-room  was  graced  by  an  Aubusson 
carpet,  given  to  Bridau  when  his  office  was  last  refurnished. 
The  widow  placed  in  it  that  common  mahogany  furniture, 
finished  with  Egyptian  heads,  manufactured  by  the  gross  in 
1806  by  Jacob  Desmalter,  and  covered  with  silk  damask  with 
white  conventional  roses. 

Above  the  sofa,  a  portrait  of  Bridau  in  pastel,  the  work  of 
a  friend,  attracted  the  eye  at  once.  Though  the  art  was  not 
% 


18  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

above  criticism,  the  brow  plainly  showed  the  firmness  of  the 
unknown  great  citizen.  The  calm  look  of  his  eyes,  at  once 
proud  and  mild,  was  happily  rendered ;  the  sagacity  to  which 
the  prudent  lips  bore  witness,  and  the  honest  smile,  the  whole 
tone  of  the  man  of  whom  the  Emperor  spoke  as  Justum  et 
tenacem,  had  been  caught,  if  not  with  talent,  at  any  rate  with 
truth.  As  you  looked  at  this  portrait,  you  could  see  that  this 
man  had  always  done  his  duty.  His  countenance  expressed 
the  incorruptibility  which  must  be  granted  to  many  of  the 
men  employed  during  the  Republic. 

Opposite,  over  a  card-table,  was  the  brilliantly  colored 
picture  of  the  Emperor  by  Vernet,  in  which  Napoleon  is  seen 
swiftly  riding  past,  and  followed  by  his  escort.  Agathe 
allowed  herself  the  luxury  of  two  large  bird-cages — one  full 
of  canaries,  and  one  of  exotic  birds ;  she  had  taken  up  this 
childlike  fancy  since  her  loss — irreparable  to  her  and  to  many 
others. 

As  to  Agathe's  bedroom,  by  the  end  of  three  months  it  had 
become,  what  it  remained  till  the  luckless  day  when  she  was 
obliged  to  leave  it — a  chaos  which  no  description  could  re- 
duce to  order.  Cats  were  at  home  in  the  armchairs  ;  the 
birds,  sometimes  set  at  liberty,  left  their  traces  on  all  the 
furniture.  The  poor,  kind  soul  strewed  millet  and  groundsel 
for  them  in  all  parts  of  the  room  ;  the  cats  found  titbits  in 
broken  saucers.  Clothes  lay  about.  It  was  an  atmosphere 
of  provincialism  and  fidelity.  Everything  that  had  belonged 
to  Bridau  was  carefully  treasured  there ;  his  writing  apparatus 
was  kept  with  the  care  which  the  widow  of  a  knight  would 
have  devoted  to  his  armor.  This  woman's  touching  worship 
may  be  understood  from  a  single  fact — she  had  wrapped  a 
pen  in  a  sealed  packet  and  written  on  it,  "  The  last  pen  used 
by  my  dear  husband."  The  cup  from  which  he  had  drunk 
for  the  last  time  was  under  glass  on  the  chimney-shelf.  At  a 
later  date  caps  and  "  fronts"  crowned  the  glass  shades  that 
covered  these  treasured  relics. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  19 

After  Bridau's  death,  his  young  widow  of  five-and-thirty 
never  betrayed  a  trace  of  vanity  or  womanly  pride.  Parted 
from  the  only  man  she  had  really  known,  esteemed,  and  loved, 
who  had  never  caused  her  the  smallest  pang,  she  no  longer 
felt  herself  a  woman  ;  she  cared  for  nothing ;  she  ceased  to 
dress.  Nothing  could  be  more  unaffected  or  more  complete 
than  this  surrender  of  married  happiness  and  personal  care. 
Some  souls  are  endowed  by  love  with  the  power  of  merging 
their  individuality  in  another;  and  when  that  other  is  gone, 
life  is  no  longer  possible.  Agathe,  who  could  henceforth  live 
only  for  her  children,  felt  the  deepest  grief  at  seeing  how 
many  privations  they  must  suffer  in  consequence  of  her  ruin. 
From  the  day  when  she  moved  to  the  Rue  Mazarine  there  was 
a  tinge  of  melancholy  in  her  expression  that  was  very  touching. 
She  did  indeed  count  a  little  on  the  Emperor,  but  he  could 
do  no  more  than  he  was  already  doing  \  he  allowed  each  boy, 
besides  his  scholarship,  six  hundred  francs  a  year  out  of  his 
privy  purse. 

As  to  the  dashing  Madame  Descoings,  she  had  an  apart- 
ment similar  to  her  niece's  on  the  second  floor.  She  had  as- 
signed to  Madame  Bridau  a  sum  of  a  thousand  crowns  to  be 
taken  as  a  first  charge  on  her  annuity  ;  Roguin  had  taken  care 
of  this  for  Madame  Bridau,  but  it  would  be  seven  years  before 
this  slow  repayment  could  undo  the  mischief.  Roguin,  in- 
structed to  replace  the  fifteen  hundred  francs  in  dividends, 
banked  the  sums  he  retained  on  this  account.  Madame  Des- 
coings, reduced  to  twelve  hundred  francs  a  year,  lived  poorly 
enough  with  her  niece.  The  two  honest,  helpless  creatures 
had  a  woman  in  for  the  morning's  work  only.  The  aunt, 
who  liked  cooking,  managed  the  dinner.  In  the  evening,  a 
few  friends,  clerks  in  the  office  for  whom  Bridau  had  found 
places,  would  come  to  play  a  game  with  the  two  widows. 

Madame  Descoings  still  clung  to  her  three  numbers,  which 
obstinately  refused,  as  she  said,  ever  to  come  out.  She  still 
hoped,  by  one  turn  of  luck,  to  repay  all  that  she  had  surrep- 


20  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

titiously  borrowed  from  her  niece.  She  loved  the  two  little 
Bridaus  better  than  her  grandson  Bixiou,  so  strongly  did  she 
feel  that  she  had  wronged  them,  and  so  greatly  did  she  admire 
the  sweetness  of  her  niece,  who,  at  the  very  worst,  never 
spoke  the  lightest  word  of  blame.  And  so  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  she  spoiled  Joseph  and  Philippe.  Like  all  persons 
who  have  a  vice  to  be  forgiven,  this  old  gambler  in  the  im- 
perial lottery  would  treat  them  to  little  dinners,  cramming 
them  with  damties.  A  little  later  Joseph  and  Philippe  could, 
with  the  greatest  ease,  extract  from  her  little  gifts  of  money ; 
the  younger  to  buy  stumps,  chalk,  paper,  and  prints ;  the 
elder  for  apple-puffs,  marbles,  balls  of  string,  and  knives. 
Ker  passion  had  brought  her  down  to  being  content  with  fifty 
francs  a  month  for  all  expenses,  that  she  might  gamble  with 
the  remainder. 

Madame  Bridau  on  her  part,  out  of  motherly  affection,  did 
not  allow  her  expenses  to  exceed  that  sum.  To  punish  her- 
self for  her  foolish  confidence,  she  now  heroically  cut  off  all 
her  little  enjoyments.  It  often  happens  to  a  timid  soul  and 
narrow  intellect  that  a  single  experience  of  crushed  feelings 
and  aroused  suspicions  leads  to  such  an  extreme  development 
of  a  failing  that  it  acquires  the  consistency  of  a  virtue.  The 
Emperor  might  forget,  she  told  herself;  he  might  be  killed  in 
battle — her  pension  would  die  with  him.  She  shuddered  as 
she  saw  such  probabilities  of  her  children  being  left  absolutely 
penniless.  Incompetent  as  she  was  to  understand  Roguin's 
calculations,  when  he  tried  to  prove  to  her  that  in  seven  years 
a  charge  of  three  thousand  francs  a  year  on  Madame  Des- 
coings'  annuity  would  replace  the  securities  she  had  sold,  she 
put  no  trust  in  the  lawyer,  or  her  aunt,  or  the  state ;  she  relied 
only  on  herself  and  her  own  thrift.  By  saving  a  thousand 
crowns  a  year  out  of  her  pension,  in  ten  years  she  would  have 
thirty  thousand  francs,  which  would  at  any  rate  secure  her 
children  fifteen  hundred  francs  a  year.  At  six-and-thirty  she 
had  a  right  to  hope  that  she  might  live  twenty  years,  and  by 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  21 

carrying  out  this  system  she  might  leave  each  of  them  enough 
for  the  bare  necessities  of  life. 

Thus  the  two  widows  had  sunk  from  unreal  opulence  to 
voluntary  penury — one  under  the  influence  of  a  vice,  the 
other  under  the  promptings  of  the  purest  virtue.  None  of  all 
these  trivial  things  are  foreign  to  the  deep  lesson  to  be  de- 
rived from  this  story,  founded  on  the  sordid  interests  of  com- 
mon life,  but  with  a  scope  all  the  wider  perhaps  in  con- 
sequence. 

The  view  over  the  schools,  the  scampering  art  students  in 
the  street,  the  need  for  looking  at  the  sky,  if  only  to  turn 
from  the  hideous  outlook  on  every  side  of  that  mouldy  street; 
the  countenance  of  the  portrait,  full  of  soul  and  dignity  in 
spite  of  the  amateurish  handling  ;  the  association  of  the  rich 
coloring,  harmonized  by  age,  of  this  quiet  and  peaceful  home, 
the  greenery  of  its  hanging  gardens,  the  poverty  of  the  house- 
hold, the  mother's  preference  for  her  elder  son,  and  her  dis- 
like to  the  younger  boy's  taste — in  short,  the  sum-total  of  the 
incidents  and  circumstances  which  form  the  prologue  to  the 
story,  constituted  perhaps  the  active  causes  to  which  we  owe 
Joseph  Bridau,  one  of  the  great  painters  of  the  modern 
French  school. 

Philippe,  the  elder  of  Bridau's  two  children,  was  strik- 
ingly like  his  mother.  Though  fair-haired  and  blue-eyed,  he 
had  a  daring  look  which  was  often  mistaken  for  high  spirit 
and  courage.  Old  Claparon,  who  had  entered  the  office  at 
the  same  time  with  Bridau,  and  was  one  of  the  faithful 
friends  who  came  in  the  evening  to  play  a  game  with  the  two 
widows,  would  say  of  Philippe  two  or  three  times  in  a  month, 
as  he  patted  his  cheek,  "  Here  is  a  brave  little  man,  who  can 
always  say  bo  to  a  goose!"  The  child,  thus  encouraged, 
assumed  a  sort  of  pluck  out  of  bravado.  His  temper  having 
taken  this  bent,  he  became  skilled  in  all  physical  exercises. 
By  dint  of  fighting  at  school,  he  acquired  the  hardihood  and 


22        A  BACHELOR'S  F.STABLTSHMENT. 

scorn  of  pain  which  give  rise  lo  military  courage,  but,  of 
course,  he  also  acquired  the  greatest  aversion  for  study  ;  for  a 
public  school  can  never  solve  the  difficult  problem  of  develop- 
ing equally  and  simultaneously  the  powers  of  the  body  and  of 
the  mind.  Agathe  inferred  from  his  purely  superficial  re- 
semblance to  her  that  they  must  agree  in  mind,  and  firmly 
believed  that  she  should  some  day  find  in  him  her  own  re 
fined  feeling,  ennobled  by  a  man's  force  of  nature. 

At  the  time  when  Madame  Bridau  moved  to  the  gloomy 
apartment  in  the  Rue  Mazarine,  Philippe  was  fifteen,  and  the 
engaging  ways  of  a  youth  at  that  age  confirmed  his  mother'a 
belief.  Joseph,  who  was  three  years  younger,  was  an  ugly 
likeness  of  his  father.  In  the  first  place,  his  bushy  black  hair 
was  always  ill-kempt  whatever  was  done  to  it ;  while  hir 
brother,  though  he  was  never  quiet,  was  always  trim  ;  then^ 
by  some,  inscrutable  fatality — but  a  too  persistent  fatality 
grows  into  a  habit — Joseph  could  never  keep  his  clothee 
clean  ;  dressed  in  a  new  suit,  he  made  old  clothes  of  them  a^ 
once.  The  elder,  out  of  personal  vanity,  took  care  of  \\\i 
things.  Unconsciously,  the  mother  accustomed  herself  tc 
scold  Joseph  and  hold  up  the  example  of  his  brother.  So 
Agathe  did  not  always  show  the  same  face  to  her  two  boys ; 
and  when  she  went  to  fetch  them  from  school,  she  would  say 
of  Joseph,  "  I  wonder  wliat  state  his  things  will  be  in  !  "  All 
these  trifles  drove  her  heart  into  the  gulf  of  favoritism. 

No  one  of  all  the  very  commonplace  people  who  formed 
the  two  widows'  visiting  circle — neither  old  du  Brnei,  nor  old 
Claparon,  nor  Desroches  senior,  nor  even  the  Abbe  Loraux, 
Agathe's  director — ever  noticed  Joseph's  powers  of  observa- 
tion. Possessed  by  this  taste,  the  future  colorist  paid  no  heed 
to  anything  that  concerned  him  ;  and  so  long  as  he  was  a  child, 
this  instinct  looked  so  like  stupidity  that  his  father  had  been 
somewhat  uneasy  about  him.  The  extraordinary  size  of  his 
skull  and  the  brcadtli  of  his  forehead  had  at  first  led  them 
to  fear  that  the  child  had  water  on  the  brain.     His  face,  still 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  23 

SO  rugged,  and  odd  enough  to  be  thought  ugly  by  those  who 
cannot  see  the  intellectual  purpose  of  a  countenance,  was, 
during  his  boyhood,  rather  pinched.  The  features,  which 
developed  later,  seemed  crushed  together,  and  the  intensity 
with  which  the  child  studied  everything  puckered  them  still 
more.  Tims  Philippe  soothed  all  his  mother's  vanities,  while 
Joseph  never  won  her  a  compliment.  While  Joseph  was  silent 
and  dreamy,  Philippe  could  bring  out  those  clever  speeches 
and  repartees  which  tempt  parents  to  believe  that  their  chil- 
dren will  be  remarkable  men.  The  mother  looked  for 
wonders  from  Philippe,  she  founded  no  hopes  on  Joseph. 

Joseph's  predisposition  to  art  v/as  brought  to  light  by  a 
most  commonplace  incident.  In  1S12,  during  the  Easter 
holidays,  as  he  was  returning  from  a  walk  in  the  Tuileries 
gardens  with  his  brother  and  Madame  Descoings,  he  saw  a 
student  scrawl  a  caricature  of  some  professor  on  a  wall,  and 
admiration  of  this  chalk  sketch,  full  of  sparkling  fun,  riveted 
him  to  the  spot.  On  the  following  day  the  boy  placed  him- 
self at  a  window  to  watch  the  students  going  in  by  the  door 
in  the  Rue  Mazarine  ;  he  stole  downstairs,  and  slipped  into 
the  long  courtyard  of  the  Institute,  where  he  saw  a  number 
of  statues  and  busts,  marble  rough-hewn,  terra-cotta  figures, 
studies  in  plaster ;  he  gazed  at  them  in  a  fever  of  excitement, 
for  his  instinct  was  roused,  his  vocation  seethed  within  him. 
He  went  into  a  large  low  room,  the  door  standing  open,  and 
there  saw  a  dozen  or  so  of  lads  drawing  a  statue ;  he  was  at 
once  the  butt  of  their  tricks. 

'' Pretty  Dick  !  pretty  Dick  !  "  said  the  first  to  spy  him, 
flinging  some  bread-crumbs  at  him. 

"  Whose  brat  is  that  ?  " 

"  Heavens,  how  ugly  he  is  !  " 

In  short,  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  Joseph  stood  the  horse- 
play of  the  studio — that  of  the  great  sculptor  Chaudet ;  but 
after  making  game  of  him,  the  pupils  were  struck  by  his 
tenacity  and  his  expression,  and  asked  him  what  he  wanted. 


^  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Joseph  replied  that  he  very  much  wished  to  learn  to  draw ; 
and  thereupon  everybody  was  by  way  of  encouraging  him. 
The  boy,  taken  in  by  this  friendly  tone,  explained  that  he  was 
Madame  Bridau's  son. 

"Oh!  then,  indeed!  If  you  are  Madame  Bridau's  son," 
they  sang  out  from  every  corner  of  the  studio,  "  you  may  be- 
come a  great  man.  Hurrah  for  Madame  Bridau's  son  !  Is 
your  mother  pretty  ?  To  judge  from  your  pumpkin  head  as  a 
specimen,  she  ought  to  be  a  sweet  one  to  look  at." 

"So  you  want  to  be  an  artist,"  said  the  eldest  student, 
leaving  his  place,  and  coming  to  Joseph  to  play  him  some 
trick.  "  But  you  must  be  plucky,  you  know,  and  put  up  with 
dreadful  things.  Yes,  there  are  trials,  tests  that  are  enough 
to  break  your  legs  and  arms.  All  these  fellows  that  you  see — 
well,  every  one  of  them  has  passed  the  tests.  Now,  that  one, 
for  instance,  he  went  for  seven  days  and  nights  without  food. 
Come,  let's  see  if  you  are  fit  to  become  an  artist?  " 

He  took  one  of  the  boy's  arms  and  placed  it  straight 
up  in  the  air,  then  he  set  the  other  at  an  angle  as  if  about 
to  strike  out. 

"  We  call  that  the  ordeal  of  the  telegraph,"  said  he.  "  If 
you  stand  like  that  without  letting  your  arms  sink  or  chang- 
ing your  attitude  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour — well,  you  will 
have  shown  that  you  have  good  pluck  !  " 

"Now,  little  chap,  show  your  mettle,"  said  the  others. 
"  By  Jove,  you  must  go  through  something  to  become  an 
artist." 

Joseph,  in  all  the  good  faith  of  a  boy  of  thirteen,  remained 
motionless  for  about  five  minutes,  and  all  the  pupils  looked  at 
him  very  gravely. 

"  Oh  !  your  arm  is  sinking,"  said  one. 

"  Come,  steady  !  "  said  another. 

"  By  Jove,  the  Emperor  Napoleon  stood  for  at  least  a 
month,  just  as  you  see  him  there,"  added  a  third,  pointing  to 
Chaudet's  fine  statue. 


A  BACHELOR'S  FSTABLISTIMENT.  25 

The  Emperor  was  standing  holding  the  imperial  sceptre  ; 
and  this  work  was  thrown  down  in  1S14  from  the  column  it 
finished  so  nobly. 

In  about  ten  minutes  the  pers})iration  was  standing  on 
Joseph's  brow.  At  this  moment  a  little  man  came  in,  bald, 
pale,  and  fragile  ;  respectful  silence  reigned  in  the  studio. 

"  Now  then,  you  scamps,  what  are  you  about?"  he  asked, 
looking  at  the  studio  victim. 

"The  little  chap  is  sitting  to  us,"  said  the  tall  student  who 
had  placed  Joseph  in  position. 

'*  Are  you  not  ashamed  of  torturing  a  poor  child  so?"  said 
Chaudet,  putting  down  Joseph's  arms.  "  How  long  have 
you  been  standing  there  ?  "  he  asked,  with  a  friendly  pat  on 
the  boy's  cheek. 

"About  a  quarter  of  an  hour." 
"  And  what  brings  you  here  ?  " 
"I  want  to  be  an  artist." 

"And  whence  have  you  come;  to  whom,  then,  do  you 
belong?" 

"  From  mamma's." 

"  Oh,  ho  !  from  mamma's  !  "  cried  the  pupils. 
"Silence  among  the  easels  !  "  cried   Chaudet.     "  Who  is 
your  mother?  " 

"She  is  Madame  Bridau.  My  papa,  who  is  dead,  was  a 
friend  of.  the  Emperor's.  And  if  you  will  only  teach  me  to 
draw,  the  Emperor  will  pay  whatever  you  ask." 

"  His  father  was  head  of  a  department  in  the  ministry  of 
the    interior,"    cried    Chaudet,    struck   by   a    reminiscence. 
"  And  you  want  already  to  be  an  artist?  " 
"Yes,  sir." 

"Come  here  as  often  as  you  like;  you  may  play  here. 
Give  him  an  easel,  paper,  and  chalk,  and  leave  him  to  him- 
self. Remember,  you  pickles,  that  his  father  did  me  a 
service,"  said  the  sculptor.  "Here,  you,  Well-rope,  go  and 
buy  something  nice — some  cakes  and  sugar-plums,"  he  added, 


26  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

giving  some  silver  to  the  lad  who  had  bullied  Joseph.  "  We 
shall  soon  see  if  you  are  an  artist  by  the  way  you  munch 
cabbage,"  he  went  on,  stroking  Joseph's  chin. 

Then  he  went  the  round  of  his  pupils.  Joseph  followed 
him,  listening  and  trying  to  understand.  Tiie  treat  was 
brought ;  all  the  lads,  the  sculptor  himself,  and  the  child  had 
their  share.  Then  Joseph  was  made  much  of,  as  he  had  be- 
fore been  made  game  of.  This  scene,  in  which  the  rough  fun 
and  good  heart  of  the  artist  tribe  were  revealed  to  him,  as  he 
understood  by  instinct,  made  a  prodigious  impression  on  the 
boy.  This  glimpse  of  Chaudet  the  sculptor,  snatched  away 
by  a  too  early  death  while  the  Emperor's  patronage  promised 
him  glory,  was  like  a  vision  to  Joseph. 

The  child  said  nothing  to  his  mother  of  this  escapade,  but 
every  Sunday  and  Thursday  he  spent  three  hours  in  Chaudet's 
studio.  Madame  Descoings,  always  ready  to  humor  the 
cherubs'  fancies,  henceforth  gave  Joseph  charcoal,  red  chalk, 
lithographs,  and  drawing-paper.  At  the  Lycee  Imperial  the 
budding  artist  sketched  the  masters,  took  portraits  of  his 
school-fellows,  scrawled  on  the  dormitory  walls,  and  was 
astonishingly  diligent  in  the  drawing-class.  Lemire,  his 
master  there,  astounded  not  merely  by  his  talent,  but  by  the 
progress  he  made,  came  to  speak  to  Madame  Bridau  of  her 
son's  evident  vocation.  Agathe,  a  true  provincial,  and  as 
ignorant  of  art  as  she  was  accomplished  in  housekeeping,  was 
filled  with  alarms.  When  Lemire  was  gone,  she  burst  into 
tears. 

"Oh  !  "  she  cried,  as  Madame  Descoings  came  in,  "  I  am 
undone  !  Joseph,  whom  I  meant  to  make  a  clerk,  who  has 
his  way  ready  for  him  in  the  ministry  of  the  interior,  and 
guarded  by  the  shade  of  his  father,  would  have  been  at  the 
head  of  an  office  by  the  time  he  was  five-and-twenty.  Well, 
he  is  bent  on  being  a  painter — a  beggar's  trade.  I  always 
knew  that  boy  would  bring  me  nothing  but  trouble  !  " 

Madame  Descoings  had  to  confess  that  for  some  months 


A  BACHELOR'^  E^TA RLTSIIMF.NT.  27 

■ 

past  she  had  been  encouraging  Joseph  in  his  passion  and 
screening  his  stolen  Sunday  and  Thursday  visits  to  the  school 
of  art.  At  the  Salon,  whither  she  had  taken  him,  the  little 
fellow's  interest  in  the  pictures  was  something  miraculous. 

"  And  if  he  understands  painting  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  my 
dear,  your  Joseph  will  be  a  man  of  genius." 

"  I  daresay ;   and  see  what  genius  brought  his  father  to! 
To  die,  worked  to  death,  at  forty." 

Late  in  the  autumn,  just  as  Joseph  was  reaching  the  age  of 
fourteen,  Agathe,  in  spite  of  Madame  Descoings'  entreaties, 
went  to  see  Chaudet,  and  insisted  that  her  son  should  not 
be  led  into  mischief.  She  found  Chaudet  in  his  blue  overall, 
modeling  his  latest  statue.  He  was  barely  civil  in  his  recep- 
tion of  the  widow  of  the  man  who  had  once  done  him  a 
service  in  very  critical  circumstances,  but  his  health  was 
already  undermined  ;  he  was  working  with  the  fevered  energy 
which  enables  a  man  to  do  in  a  few  moments  things  which  it 
it  is  difficult  to  achieve  in  as  many  months;  he  had  just  hit 
on  a  thing  he  had  long  been  striving  for,  and  handled  his 
clay  and  modeling  tool  with  hasty  jerks  which,  to  Agathe,  in 
her  ignorance,  seemed  to  be  those  of  a  maniac.  In  any  other 
frame  of  mind  Chaudet  would  have  laughed  outright ;  but  as 
he  heard  this  mother  blaspheming  art,  bewailing  the  fate 
forced  upon  her  son,  and  requesting  that  he  might  never  more 
be  admitted  to  the  studio,  he  broke  out  in  sacred  fury. 

"  I  am  under  obligations  to  your  lamented  husband;  I 
hoped  to  make  him  some  return  by  helping  your  son,  by 
watching  over  your  little  Joseph's  first  step  in  the  noblest  of 
all  careers  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Yes,  madame,  I  may  tell  you, 
if  you  do  not  know  it,  that  a  great  artist  is  a  king,  more  than 
a  king ;  for,  in  the  first  place,  he  is  happier,  and  he  is  inde- 
pendent ;  he  lives  as  he  pleases ;  and,  besides,  he  rules  over 
the  world  of  imagination.  Your  son  has  a  splendid  future 
before  him  !  Such  talents  as  his  are  rare ;  they  are  not  re- 
vealed so  young  in  any  artists  but   a    Giotto,  a  Raphael,  a 


28  A  BACBELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Titian,  a  Rubens,  a  Murillo — for  he  will  be  a  painter,  I  think, 
rather  than  a  sculptor.  Light  of  heaven  !  If  I  had  such  a  boy, 
I  should  be  as  happy  as  the  Emperor  is  in  being  the  father  of 
the  King  of  Rome  !  Well,  madame,  you  are  mistress  of  your 
child's  fate.  Go,  make  an  idiot  of  him,  a  man  who  will  only 
put  one  leg  before  the  other,  a  wretched  scrivener ;  you  will 
be  committing  murder  !  I  only  hope  that,  in  spite  of  all  your 
efforts,  he  will  always  remain  an  artist  !  A  vocation  is 
stronger  than  all  the  obstacles  opposed  to  its  working  !  A 
vocation ! — the  word  means  a  call.  Ah  !  it  is  election  by 
God! 

"  But  you  will  make  your  child  wretched  !  " 

He  violently  flung  the  handful  of  clay  he  had  ceased  to 
need  into  a  tub,  and  said  to  his  model,  "  That  will  do  for 
to-day." 

Agathe  looked  up,  and  saw  a  naked  woman  sitting  on  a 
stool  in  a  corner  of  the  studio  which  had  not  yet  come  under 
her  eye.     At  the  sight  she  fled  in  horror. 

"You  are  not  to  let  little  Bridau  come  here  any  more," 
said  Chaudet  to  his  pupils.  "  Madame  his  mother  does  not 
approve." 

"  Hoo-oo  !  "  shouted  the  lads  as  Agathe  closed  the  door. 

"And  Joseph  has  been  going  to  that  place!"  said  the 
poor  woman,  in  consternation  of  what  she  had  seen  and 
heard. 

As  soon  as  the  students  of  painting  and  sculpture  heard  that 
Madame  Bridau  would  not  allow  her  son  to  become  an  artist, 
all  their  delight  was  to  get  Joseph  to  their  own  rooms.  In 
spite  of  the  promise  extracted  from  him  by  his  mother  not  to 
go  any  more  to  the  Institute,  the  boy  often  stole  into  a  studio 
that  Regnauld  used  there,  and  was  encouraged  to  daub  canvas. 
When  the  widow  tried  to  complain,  Chaudet's  pupils  told  her 
that  Regnauld  was  not  Chaudet,  that  she  had  not  made  them 
the  guardians  of  monsieur  her  son,  and  laughed  at  her  in  a 
thousand  ways.     The  rascally  students  composed  and  sang 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  29 

a  ballad  on  Madame  Bridau  in  a  hundred  and  thirty-seven 
verses. 

On  the  evening  of  that  melancholy  day,  Agathe  refused  to 
play  cards,  and  sat  in  her  armchair,  a  prey  to  such  deep  mel- 
ancholy that  the  tears  welled  up  in  her  beautiful  eyes. 

* '  What  is  the  matter,  Madame  Bridau  ? ' '  asked  old  Claparon. 

"  She  believes  that  her  son  will  have  to  beg  his  bread  be- 
cause he  has  the  bump  of  painting,"  said  Madame  Descoings. 
"  But  I  have  not  the  smallest  misgiving  as  to  my  stepson's 
boy,  little  Bixiou,  though  he  too  has  a  passion  for  drawing. 
Men  are  made  to  fight  their  way." 

"  Madame  is  right,"  said  Desroches,  a  hard,  dry  man,  who 
in  spite  of  his  abilities  had  never  been  able  to  rise  in  his  office. 
"  I  happily  have  but  one  son  ;  for  with  my  salary  of  eighteen 
hundred  francs,  and  my  wife,  who  makes  barely  twelve  hun- 
dred by  her  license  to  sell  stamps,  what  would  have  become 
of  me  ?  I  have  articled  my  boy  to  an  attorney ;  he  gets 
twenty-five  frances  a  month  and  his  breakfast,  and  I  give  him 
the  same  sum  ;  he  dines  and  sleeps  at  home.  That  is  all  he 
has  ;  he  must  needs  go  on,  and  he  will  make  his  way.  I  have 
cut  out  more  work  for  my  youngster  than  if  he  were  at  col- 
lege, and  he  will  be  an  attorney  some  day ;  when  I  treat  him 
to  the  play  he  is  as  happy  as  a  king,  he  hugs  me  !  Oh  !  I 
keep  him  tight  !  He  has  to  account  to  me  for  all  his  money. 
You  are  too  easy  with  your  children.  If  your  boy  wants  to 
try  roughing  it,  let  him  alone  !      He  will  turn  out  all  right." 

"  For  my  part,"  said  du  Bruel,  a  retired  head  clerk  who 
had  just  taken  his  pension,  "  my  boy  is  but  sixteen,  and  his 
mother  worships  him.  But  I  would  not  listen  to  a  vocation 
that  declared  itself  at  such  an  early  age.  I  think  boys  need 
directing." 

"You,  monsieur,  are  rich;  you  are  a  man,  and  have  but 
one  child,"  said  Agathe. 

*' On  my  honor,"  Claparon  went  on,  "our  children  are 
our  tyrants  (in  hearts).     Mine  drives  me  mad  ;  he  has  brought 


30  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

me  to  ruin,  and  at  last  I  have  given  him  up  altogether  (inde- 
pendence). Well,  he  is  all  the  better  pleased,  and  so  am  I. 
The  rascal  was  partly  the  death  of  his  poor  mother.  He  be- 
came a  commercial  traveler,  and  it  was  the  very  life  for  him  ; 
no  sooner  was  he  in  the  house  than  he  wanted  to  be  out  of  it ; 
he  never  could  rest,  he  never  would  learn.  All  I  pray  heaven 
is  that  I  may  die  without  seeing  him  disgrace  my  name ! 
Those  who  have  no  children  miss  many  pleasures,  but  they 
also  escape  many  troubles." 

"Just  like  a  father !  "  said  Agathe,  beginning  to  cry  again. 

"What  I  tell  you,  my  dear  Madame  Bridau,  is  to  prove  to 
you  that  you  must  allow  your  boy  to  become  a  painter ;  other- 
wise you  will  lose  your  time " 

"If  you  were  capable  of  keeping  him  in  hand,"  said  the 
harsh  Desroches,  "  I  would  tell  you  to  oppose  his  wishes ; 
but,  seeing  you  so  weak  with  them,  I  say — let  him  daub  and 
scribble." 

"Lost  !  "  said  Claparon. 

"  What  ?     Lost !  "  cried  the  unhappy  mother. 

"Oh  yes,  my  independence  in  hearts — that  dry  stick  Des- 
roches always  makes  me  lose." 

"  Be  comforted,  Agathe,"  said  Madame  Descoings  ;  "Joseph 
will  be  a  great  man." 

At  the  end  of  this  discussion,  which  was  like  every  earthly 
discussion,  the  widow's  friends  united  in  one  opinion,  which 
by  no  means  put  an  end  to  her  perplexities.  She  was  advised 
to  allow  Joseph  to  follow  his  bent. 

"And  if  he  is  not  a  man  of  genius,"  said  du  Bruel,  who 
was  civil  to  Agathe,  "  you  can  always  get  him  a  place." 

On  the  landing  Madame  Descoings,  seeing  out  the  three  old 
clerks,  called  them  the  "  three  Sages  of  Greece." 

"  She  worries  herself  too  much,"  said  du  Bruel. 

"  She  may  think  herself  only  too  lucky  that  her  boy  will  do 
anything!  "  said  Claparon. 

"  If  God  preserves  the  Emperor,"  said  Desroches,  "Joseph 


A  BACHELOR'S    ESTABLISHMENT.  31 

wrill  be  provided  for  elsewhere.  So  what  has  she  to  be  anx- 
ious about  ? ' ' 

"She  is  afraid  of  everything  where  her  children  are  con- 
cerned," replied  Madame  Descoings. 

"Well,  dear  little  woman,"  she  went  on,  as  she  re-entered 
the  room,  "you  see  they  are  all  of  one  mind.  What  have  you 
to  cry  for  now  ?  ' ' 

"  Oh  !  if  it  were  Philippe,  I  should  have  no  fears.  You  do 
not  know  what  goes  on  in  those  studios.  They  actually  have 
naked  women  there  !  " 

"But  they  have  a  fire,  I  hope,"  said  Madame  Descoings. 

A  few  days  later  news  came  of  the  disastrous  rout  at  Mos- 
cow.  Napoleon  was  returning  to  organize  fresh  armies  and 
call  on  France  for  further  sacrifices.  Now  the  poor  mother 
was  tortured  by  very  different  alarms.  Philippe,  who  did  not 
like  college,  was  positively  bent  on  serving  the  Emperor.  A 
review  at  the  Tuileries,  the  last  Napoleon  ever  held,  of  which 
Philippe  was  a  spectator,  had  turned  his  head.  At  that  period 
of  military  display  the  sight  of  the  uniforms,  the  authority  of 
an  epaulette,  had  an  irresistible  fascination  for  some  young 
men.  Philippe  believed  himself  to  have  the  same  taste  for 
military  service  that  his  brother  had  for  the  arts. 

Unknown  to  his  mother,  he  wrote  to  the  Emperor  a  peti- 
tion in  the  following  words: 

"  Sire  : — I  am  the  son  of  your  Bridau  ;  I  am  eighteen  years 
old,  and  measure  nearly  six  feet ;  I  have  stout  legs,  a  good 
constitution,  and  I  wish  to  be  one  of  your  soldiers.  I  appeal 
to  your  favor  to  be  enrolled  in  the  army,  etc." 

Within  twenty-four  hours  the  Emperor  had  sent  Philippe  to 
the  Imperial  I^Iilitary  School  of  Saint-Cyr ;  and  six  months 
later,  in  November,  1813,  he  called  him  out  as  sub-lieutenant 
in  a  cavalry  regiment.     During  part  of  the  winter  Philippe 


32  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

remained  in  depot ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had  learned  to  ride  he  set 
out  full  of  ardor.  In  the  course  of  the  campaign  in  France, 
he  gained  his  lieutenancy  in  a  skirmish  of  the  advanced  guard, 
when  his  headlong  valor  saved  his  colonel.  The  Emperor 
made  him  captain  after  the  battle  of  La  Fere-Champenoise, 
and  placed  him  on  the  staff.  Stimulated  by  this  promotion, 
at  Montereau  Philippe  won  the  cross.  Then,  having  wit- 
nessed Napoleon's  farewell  at  Fontainebleau,  and  being  driven 
to  fanaticism  by  the  scene,  Captain  Philippe  refused  to  serve 
under  the  Bourbons. 

When  he  went  home  to  his  mother  in  July,  1814,  he  found 
her  a  ruined  woman.  In  the  course  of  the  long  vacation 
Joseph's  scholarship  was  canceled ;  and  Madame  Bridau, 
whose  pension  had  been  paid  out  of  tlie  Emperor's  privy 
purse,  vainly  applied  for  a  clerkship  for  him  in  the  offices  of 
the  ministry  of  the  interior.  Joseph,  more  than  ever  devoted 
to  painting,  was  enclianted,  and  only  besought  his  mother  to 
allow  him  to  go  to  Monsieur  Regnauld's  studio,  promising 
her  that  he  would  make  a  living.  He  was,  he  said,  high 
enough  in  the  second  class  at  school,  and  could  get  on  without 
rhetoric. 

Philippe,  a  captain,  and  wearing  an  order  at  nineteen, 
after  serving  under  Napoleon  on  two  battlefields,  immensely 
flattered  his  mother's  pride  ;  so,  though  he  was  rough,  noisy, 
and  in  reality  devoid  of  all  merit  but  the  vulgar  courage  of  a 
slashing  swordsman,  to  her  he  was  the  man  of  genius  ;  while 
Joseph,  who  was  small,  sickly,  and  thin,  with  a  rugged  brow, 
who  loved  peace  and  quiet,  and  dreamed  of  fame  as  an  artist, 
was  doomed,  as  she  declared,  never  to  give  her  anything  but 
worry  and  anxiety.  The  winter  of  181 4-1 5  was  a  good  one 
for  Joseph,  who,  by  the  secret  interest  of  Madame  Descoings 
and  of  Bixiou,  a  pupil  of  Gros,  was  admitted  to  work  in  that 
famous  studio,  whence  proceeded  so  many  different  types  of 
talent,  and  wlicre  he  formed  a  close  intimacy  with  Schinner. 

Then  came  the  great  20th  of  March  ;  Captain  Bridau,  who 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  33 

joined  the  Emperor  at  Lyons  and  escorted  him  back  to  the 
Tuileries,  was  promoted  to  be  major  of  the  Dragoon  Guards. 
After  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  where  he  was  wounded,  but 
slightly,  and  won  the  cross  of  a  commander  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor,  he  next  found  himself  with  Marechal  Davoust  at 
Saint-Denis,  and  not  with  the  army  of  the  Loire ;  thus,  by 
the  interest  of  Marechal  Davoust,  he  was  allowed  to  retain  his 
cross  and  his  rank  in  the  army,  but  he  was  put  upon  half-pay. 
Joseph,  uneasy  about  the  future,  studied  meanwhile  with  an 
ardor  that  made  him  ill  more  than  once  in  the  midst  of  the 
hurricane  of  public  events. 

"It  is  the  smell  of  paint,"  Agathe  would  say  to  Madame 
Descoings.  "  He  ought  to  give  up  work  that  is  so  bad  for  his 
health." 

All  Agathe's  anxieties  were  then  centred  in  her  son  the 
lieutenant-colonel.  She  saw  him  again  in  1816,  fallen  from 
his  pay  and  profits  of  about  nine  thousand  francs  a  year  as 
major  in  the  Emperor's  Dragoon  Guards  to  half-pay  amount- 
ing to  three  hundred  francs  a  month  ;  she  spent  her  little  sav- 
ings in  furnishing  for  him  the  attic  over  the  kitchen. 

Philippe  was  one  of  the  most  assiduous  Bonapartists  that 
haunted  the  Cafe  Lemblin,  a  thorough  constitutional  Boeotia. 
There  he  acquired  the  habits,  manners,  and  style  of  living  of 
half-pay  officers;  nay,  he  outdid  them,  as  any  young  man  of 
twenty  was  sure  to  do,  solemnly  vowing  a  mortal  hatred  of 
the  Bourbons  ;  he  was  not  to  be  talked  over,  and  even  re- 
fused such  opportunities  as  were  offered  him  of  employment 
in  the  field  with  his  full  rank.  In  his  mother's  eyes  Philippe 
was  showing  great  strength  of  character. 

"  His  father  could  have  done  no  better,"  said  she. 

Philippe  could  live  on  his  half-pay.  He  would  cost  his 
mother  nothing,  while  Joseph  was  entirely  dependent  on  the 
two  widows.  From  that  moment  Agathe's  preference  for 
Philippe  was  manifest.  Hitherto  it  had  been  covert ;  but  the 
persecution  under  which  he  suffered  as  a  faithful  adherent  to 
3 


34  ^4   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

the  Emperor,  the  memory  of  the  wound  her  darling  son  had 
received,  his  courage  in  adversity — which,  voluntary  as  it  was, 
seemed  to  her  noble  adversity — brought  out  Agathe's  weak- 
ness.    The  words,  "  He  is  unfortunate,"  justified  everything. 

Joseph,  whose  nature  overflowed  with  the  childlike  simpli- 
city which  is  superabundant  in  the  youthful  artist-soul,  and 
who  had  been  brought  up  to  admire  his  elder  brother,  far 
from  resenting  his  mother's  favoritism,  vindicated  it  by  shar- 
ing in  her  worship  of  a  "  veteran  "  who  had  won  Napoleon's 
orders  in  two  battles — of  a  man  wounded  at  Waterloo.  How 
could  he  doubt  the  superiority  of  this  big  brother,  whom  he 
had  seen  in  the  splendid  green-and-gold  uniform  of  the 
Dragoon  Guards,  at  the  head  of  his  squadron  on  the  Champ 
de  Mai.  And  in  spite  of  her  preference,  Agathe  was  a  good 
mother.  She  loved  Joseph,  but  not  blindly ;  she  simply  did 
not  understand  him.  Joseph  worshiped  his  mother,  whereas 
Philippe  allowed  her  to  adore  him.  Still,  for  her  the  dragoon 
moderated  his  military  coarseness,  while  he  never  disguised 
his  contempt  for  Joseph,  though  expressing  it  not  unkindly. 
As  he  looked  at  his  brother's  powerful  head,  too  large  for  a 
body  kept  thin  by  constant  work,  and  still,  at  the  age  of 
seventeen,  slight  and  weakly,  he  would  call  him  "the  kid." 
His  patronizing  ways  would  have  been  offensive  but  for  the 
artist's  indifference,  in  the  belief,  indeed,  that  a  soldier 
always  liad  a  kind  heart  under  his  rough  manners.  The  poor 
boy  did  not  yet  know  that  really  first-rate  military  men  are  as 
gentle  and  polite  as  other  superior  persons.  Genius  is  every- 
where true  to  itself. 

"Poor  child!"  Philippe  would  say  to  his  mother. 
"  Don't  tease  him  ;  let  him  amuse  himself."  And  this  con- 
tempt was  in  his  mother's  eyes  an  evidence  of  brotherly 
affection. 

"Philippe  will  always  love  and  protect  his  brother,"  she 
thought. 

In  i8i6  Joseph  obtained  his  mother's  permission  to  convert 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  35 

the  loft  adjoining  his  bedroom  into  a  painting- room,  and 
Madame  Descoings  gave  him  a  small  sum  to  purchase  such 
things  as  were  indispensable  to  his  "business"  as  a  painter j 
for  in  the  minds  of  the  two  widows  painting  was  but  a  trade. 
Joseph,  with  the  energy  and  zeal  that  are  part  of  such  a 
vocation,  arranged  everything  in  his  humble  studio  with  his 
own  hands.  The  landlord,  at  Madame  Descoings'  request, 
made  a  skylight  in  the  roof.  Thus  the  attic  became  a  large 
room,  and  was  painted  chocolate-color  by  Joseph  ;  he  hung 
some  sketches  against  the  walls ;  Agathe,  not  very  willingly, 
had  a  small  cast-iron  stove  fixed  ;  and  Joseph  could  now  work 
at  home,  not,  however,  neglecting  Gros'  studio  or  Schinner's. 

The  Constitutional  parly,  consisting  largely  of  half-pay 
officers  and  the  Bonapartists,  who  were  at  that  time  frequently 
engaged  in  riots  round  the  House  of  Representatives,  in  the 
name  of  the  Charter,  which  no  one  would  hear  of,  and  they 
plotted  sundry  conspiracies.  Philippe,  who  must  needs  get 
mixed  up  in  them,  was  arrested,  but  released  for  lack  of  evi- 
dence;  but  the  war  minister  cut  off  his  half-pay,  reducing 
him  to  what  might  be  called  punishment  pay.  France  was 
no  longer  the  place  for  him  ;  Philippe  would  end  by  falling 
into  some  trap  laid  by  the  government  agents.  There  was  at 
that  time  a  great  talk  of  these  agents  provocateurs.  So  while 
Philippe  was  playing  billiards  in  cafes  suspected  of  disaffec- 
tion, losing  his  time,  and  getting  into  a  habit  of  drinking 
various  liqueurs,  Agathe  lived  in  mortal  terrors  for  the  great 
man  of  the  family. 

The  "  three  Sages  of  Greece  "  were  too  well  used  to  walk- 
ing the  same  way  every  evening,  to  mounting  the  stairs  to  the 
widows'  rooms,  and  to  finding  the  ladies  always  expecting 
them,  and  anxious  to  ask  them  the  news  of  the  day,  ever  to 
cease  their  visits.  They  came  regularly  to  their  game  in  the 
little  green  drawing-room.  The  ministry  of  the  interior, 
thoroughly  purged  in  1816,  had  kept  Claparon  on  its  lists  as 
one  of  the  trimmers  who  murmur  in  an  undertone  the  news 


S6  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

from  the  Moniteur,  adding,  "  Do  not  get  me  into  trouble  !  " 
Desroches,  dismissed  soon  after  his  senior,  dif  Bruel,  was 
still  fighting  for  his  pension.  These  three  friends,  seeing 
Agathe's  despair,  advised  her  to  send  the  colonel  abroad. 

"There  is  raucli  talk  of  conspiracies,  and  your  son,  with 
his  character,  will  be  the  victim  of  some  such  affair,  for  there 
is  always  some  one  to  peach." 

**  The  devil !  "  said  du  Bruel,  in  a  low  voice  and  looking 
about  him.  "  He  is  the  stuff  of  which  his  Emperor  used  to 
make  his  marshals,  and  he  ought  not  to  give  up  his  calling. 
Let  him  serve  in  the  East,  in  the  Indies " 

"  But  his  health  ?  "  objected  Agathe. 

"Why  does  he  not  enter  an  office?"  said  Desroches. 
"  So  many  private  concerns  are  being  started.  I  mean  to  get 
a  place  as  head  clerk  in  an  assurance  company  as  soon  as  my 
pension  is  settled." 

"Philippe  is  a  soldier;  he  only  cares  for  fighting,"  said 
Agathe  the  warlike. 

"  Then  he  should  be  a  good  boy,  and  apply  for  active  ser- 
vice with " 

"  This  crew?  "  cried  the  widow.  "  Oh,  you  will  never  get 
me  to  suggest  it !  " 

"You  are  wrong,"  replied  du  Bruel.  "My  son  has  just 
been  helped  on  by  the  Due  de  Navarreins.  The  Bourbons 
are  very  good  to  all  who  join  them  honestly.  Your  son  will 
be  appointed  as  lieutenant-colonel  to  a  regiment." 

"  They  will  take  none  but  noblemen  in  the  cavalry,  and  he 
will  never  be  full  colonel,"  cried  Madame  Descoings. 

Agathe,  in  great  alarm,  implored  Philippe  to  go  abroad  and 
offer  his  services  to  some  foreign  power..  Any  one  of  them 
would  receive  with  favor  an  officer  of  the  Emperor's  staff. 

"Serve  with  foreigners?"  cried  Philippe  in  horror. 

Agathe  embraced  her  son  fervently,  exclaiming,  "He  is 
his  father  all  over." 

"He  is  quite  right,"  said  Joseph.     "A  Frenchman  is  too 


J  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  37 

proud  of  his  column  to  lead  any  foreign  columns.     Besides, 
Napoleon  may  come  back  again  yet." 

To  please  his  mother,  a  splendid  idea  occurred  to  Philippe : 
He  might  join  General  Lallemand  in  the  United  States,  and 
co-operate  in  founding  the  Champ  cV Asile,  one  of  the  most 
disastrous  hoaxes  ever  perpetrated  under  the  name  of  a  national 
fund.  Agathe  paid  ten  thousand  francs,  and  went  with  her 
son  to  Havre  to  see  him  on  board  ship. 

At  the  end  of  1817,  Agathe  was  managing  to  live  on  the 
six  hundred  francs  a  year  left  to  her  in  government  securities; 
then,  by  a  happy  inspiration,  she  invested  at  once  the  ten^ 
thousand  francs  that  remained  to  her  of  her  savings,  and  so 
had  seven  hundred  francs  a  year  more. 

Joseph  wished  to  contribute  to  her  act  of  sacrifice ;  he  went 
about  dressed  like  a  bum-bailiff,  wearing  thick  shoes  and  blue 
socks ;  he  wore  no  gloves ;  he  burned  coal  instead  of  wood  \ 
he  lived  on  bread,  milk,  and  cheap  cheese.  The  poor  lad 
never  heard  a  word  of  encouragement  from  anybody  but  old 
Madame  Descoings  and  from  Bixiou,  his  school-fellow  and 
fellow-student,  who  was  by  this  time  employed  in  drawing 
capital  little  caricatures,  besides  having  a  small  place  in  a 
government  ofifice. 

"How  glad  I  was  to  see  the  summer  of  1818  !  "  Bridau 
would  often  say  when  speaking  of  these  hard  times.  "The 
sun  saved  my  buying  fuel." 

He  was  already  quite  as  good  a  colorist  as  Gros,  and  only 
went  to  his  master  for  advice;  he  was  thinking  of  riding  a 
tilt  at  the  classic  school,  of  breaking  free  from  Greek  conven- 
tionality and  the  leading  strings  which  fettered  an  art  whose 
birthright  is  nature  as  it  is,  in  the  omnipotence  of  its  crea- 
tiveness  and  its  caprice.  Joseph  was  making  ready  for  the 
struggle  which,  from  the  day  when  he  first  exhibited  at  the 
Salon,  was  never  more  to  cease. 

It  was  a  terrible  year  for  them  all.  Roguin,  the  widows' 
notary,  disappeared,  taking  with  him  all  the  money  kept  back 


S8  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

during  the  past  seven  years  from  Madame  Descoings'  annuity, 
which  by  this  time  ought  to  have  been  bringing  them  in  two 
thousand  francs  a  year.  Three  days  after  this  catastrophe 
there  came  from  New  York  a  bill  drawn  on  his  mother  by 
Colonel  Philippe.  The  poor  fellow,  swindled  like  so  many 
more,  had  lost  everything  in  the  scheme  for  the  Champ 
d'Asile.  This  letter,  by  which  Agathe,  Madame  Descoings, 
and  Joseph  all  were  melted  to  tears,  spoke  of  debts  incurred 
at  New  York,  where  his  companions  in  misfortune  had  stood 
surety  for  him. 

"And  it  was  all  my  doing  that  he  went  !  "  cried  the  poor 
mother,  ingenious  in  finding  excuses  for  Philippe's  sins. 

"  I  advise  you  not  to  send  him  often  on  such  journeys," 
said  old  Madame  Descoings  to  her  niece. 

Madame  Descoings  was  heroic ;  she  still  paid  Madame 
Bridau  a  thousand  crowns  ;  but  she  also  still  paid  regularly 
to  keep  up  the  three  numbers  which  had  never  come  out 
since  1799.  ^^  ^^^^^  time  she  began  to  doubt  the  honesty  of 
the  management.  She  accused  the  government  authorities, 
believing  them  quite  capable  of  suppressing  the  issue  of  the 
three  numbers  in  the  drawing  so  as  to  keep  up  the  frenzied 
deposits  of  the  ticket-holders. 

After  a  brief  consideration  of  ways  and  means,  it  seemed 
impossible  to  raise  a  thousand  francs  without  selling  some 
shares.  The  two  women  talked  of  pledging  their  plate,  some 
of  their  house-linen,  or  even  part  of  the  furniture  that  they 
could  do  without.  Joseph,  terrified  by  these  plans,  went  to 
call  on  Gerard,  and  explained  the  situation  ;  the  great  painter 
obtained  a  commission  for  him  from  the  master  of  the  royal 
household  to  make  two  copies  of  the  portrait  of  Louis  XVIII., 
at  the  price  of  five  hundred  francs  each.  Though  little  ad- 
dicted to  liberality,  Gros  took  his  pupil  to  a  shop  where 
Joseph  got  all  the  necessary  materials.  But  the  thousand 
francs  were  to  be  paid  only  on  delivery.  Joseph  set  to  work 
and  painted  four  little  pictures  in  ten  days  ;  these  he  sold  to 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  39 

the  dealers,  and  brought  liis  mother  a  thousand  francs;  she 
could  meet  the  bill.  A  week  later,  another  letter  from  the 
colonel  announced  to  his  mother  that  he  was  sailing  on  board 
a  packet,  the  captain  having  accepted  his  promise  to  pay. 
Philippe  added  that  he  would  need  at  least  a  thousand  francs 
more  on  disembarking  at  Havre. 

"Well,"  said  Joseph  to  his  mother,  "I  shall  have  finished 
the  copies  ;  you  can  take  him  the  thousand  francs." 

"  Dear  Joseph  !  "  cried  Agathe,  embracing  him  with  tears. 
**Then  you  really  love  that  poor  persecuted  boy  ?  He  is  our 
glory  and  all  our  hope  !  So  young,  so  brave,  and  so  unfor- 
tunate !  Everything  is  against  him  ;  let  us  all  three  at  any 
rate  be  on  his  side." 

"Painting  is  good  for  something  after  all,  you  see,"  cried 
Joseph,  happy  at  having  at  last  won  his  mother's  permission 
to  become  a  great  artist. 

Madame  Bridau  flew  to  meet  her  beloved  son,  Colonel 
Philippe.  At  Havre  she  walked  every  day  to  a  point  beyond 
the  round  tower  built  by  Francis  I.,  every  day  imagining 
fresh  and  dreadful  alarms  as  she  watched  for  the  American 
packet.  None  but  mothers  know  how  this  kind  of  torment 
revives  their  first  motherhood.  The  vessel  came  in  one  fine 
morning  in  October,  1819,  without  damage,  without  having 
met  the  slightest  squall. 

The  air  of  his  native  land,  and  the  sight  of  his  mother, 
must  always  have  some  effect,  even  on  the  coarsest  soul,  espe- 
cially after  an  exile  full  of  disasters.  Philippe  gave  way  to 
an  eflfusiveness  of  feeling  which  made  Agathe  think  to  herself, 
"  How  much  this  one  loves  me  !  "  Alas  !  the  young  officer 
loved  but  one  creature  in  the  world,  and  that  was  Colonel 
Philippe.  His  ill-fortune  in  Texas,  his  stay  in  New  York — 
a  place  where  speculation  and  self-interest  arc  carried  to  the 
highest  pitch,  where  the  coarsest  selfishness  becomes  cynicism, 
where  each  man,  living  for  himself  alone,  is  compelled  to 


40  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

tread  his  own  path,  where  politeness  does  not  exist — in  short, 
the  smallest  incidents  of  his  expedition  had  developed  in 
Philippe  all  the  bad  tendencies  of  the  disbanded  trooper.  He 
was  a  bully,  a  drinker,  a  smoker,  assertive  and  rude ;  penury 
and  privations  had  deteriorated  him.  Also,  the  colonel  con- 
sidered himself  persecuted  ;  the  effect  of  this  belief  on  a  man 
of  low  intelligence  is  to  make  him  an  intolerant  persecutor. 
To  Philippe  the  whole  universe  began  at  his  head  and  ended 
at  his  feet;  the  sua  shone  for  him  alone.  To  crown  all,  his 
experience  of  New  York,  interpreted  by  a  man  of  action,  had 
robbed  him  of  every  moral  scruple. 

With  beings  of  his  stamp  there  are  but  two  modes  of  exist- 
ence :  they  are  believers  or  they  are  unbelievers ;  they  have 
all  the  virtues  of  an  honest  man,  or  they  are  carried  away  by 
every  pressure  of  necessity  ;  then  they  get  into  a  habit  of 
regarding  their  smallest  interests,  and  every  passing  wish 
prompted  by  passion,  as  a  necessity.  On  this  plan  a  man 
may  go  far. 

In  appearance,  but  in  appearance  only,  the  colonel  had 
preserved  the  blunt,  frank,  easy-going  manner  of  a  soldier. 
Thus  he  was  a  very  dangerous  man  ;  he  seemed  as  guileless  as 
a  child  ;  but  having  no  one  to  think  of  but  himself,  he  never 
did  anything  without  carefully  considering  what  he  had  best 
do,  much  as  a  wily  prosecutor  considers  every  twist  and  turn 
of  a  tricky  rogue.  Words  cost  him  nothing,  and  he  would 
give  you  as  many  as  you  chose  to  believe.  If  a  man  should, 
unluckily,  be  so  rash  as  to  take  exception  to  the  explanations 
by  which  he  would  justify  the  discrepancies  between  his  con- 
duct and  his  speech,  the  colonel,  who  was  a  first-rate  shot, 
who  could  challenge  the  most  skillful  swordsman,  and  who  had 
the  cool  head  of  a  man  to  whom  life  is  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence, was  ready  to  demand  satisfaction  for  the  first  sharp 
word.  Pending  that,  he  looked  like  a  man  so  ready  for  blows 
as  to  make  compromise  impossible.  His  tall  figure  had  be- 
come burly,  his  face  was  tanned  during  his  stay  in  Texas,  and 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  41 

he  had  caught  the  abrupt  speech  and  peremptory  tone  of  a 
man  who  means  to  be  respected  in  the  midst  of  the  populace 
of  New  York. 

Such  as  he  was,  plainly  dressed,  and  his  frame  evidently 
hardened  by  his  recent  hard  life,  Philippe  was  a  hero  in  his 
poor  mother's  eyes;  but  he  had,  in  fact,  become  what  the 
common  people  plainly  describe  as  a  "bad  lot." 

Madame  Bridau,  startled  by  her  darling  son's  destitute  con- 
dition, had  a  complete  outfit  made  for  him  at  Havre  ;  as  she 
listened  to  the  tale  of  his  woes,  she  had  not  the  heart  to 
check  his  eating,  drinking,  and  amusing  himself,  as  a  man  was 
bound  to  drink  and  enjoy  himself  on  his  return  from  the 
Champ  (T  Asile. 

The  occupation  of  Texas  by  the  remnant  of  the  grand 
army  was  no  doubt  a  splendid  idea ;  but  it  was  the  men  that 
were  found  wanting  rather  than  the  conditions,  since  Texas 
is  now  a  republican  state  of  great  promise.  The  experiment 
made  under  the  Restoration  proved  emphatically  that  the 
interests  of  the  Liberals  were  purely  selfish,  and  in  no  sense 
national ;  aiming  at  power,  and  at  nothing  else.  Neither  the 
material,  the  place,  the  idea,  nor  the  good-will  was  lacking, 
only  the  money  and  the  support  of  that  hypocritical  party ; 
they  had  vast  sums  at  their  disposal,  and  would  give  nothing 
when  the  reinstatement  of  an  empire  was  at  stake. 

Housewives  of  Agathe's  stamp  have  the  good  sense  which 
enables  them  to  see  through  such  politcal  frauds.  The  hapless 
mother  saw  the  truth  as  she  heard  her  son's  story  ;  for,  during 
his  absence,  her  interest  in  the  exile  had  led  her  to  listen  to 
the  pompous  announcements  of  the  Constitutional  news- 
papers, and  to  watch  the  vicissitudes  of  the  braggart  subscrip- 
tion, which  yielded  scarcely  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
francs  when  five  or  six  millions  were  needed.  The  leaders  of 
the  Liberal  party  very  soon  discoA  ered  that  they  were,  in  fact, 
doing  the  job  for  Louis  XVHL  t  i  sending  away  the  glorious 
remnant  of  the  French  army,  and  they  abandoned  to  their 


42  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

fate  ihe  most  devoted  and  ardent  enthusiabts,  who  were  the 
first  to  go.  Agathe  never  was  able  to  explain  to  Philippe 
that  he  liad  been  the  prey  of  fraud  rather  than  of  persecution. 
In  her  belief  in  her  idol  she  accused  herself  of  stupidity,  and 
lamented  the  disasters  of  the  times  which  had  fallen  on 
Philippe. 

And  it  was  true  that,  until  now,  in  all  his  misfortunes  he 
had  been  less  a  sinner  than  a  victim  to  his  fine  temper  and 
energy,  to  the  Emperor's  overthrow,  to  the  duplicity  of  the 
Liberals  and  the  vindictiveness  of  the  Bourbons  towards  the 
Bonapartists.  All  through  the  week  they  spent  at  Havre — a 
horribly  expensive  week — she  never  dared  hint  that  he  should 
become  reconciled  to  the  King's  government  and  call  at  the 
war  office  ;  she  had  enough  to  do  to  get  him  away  from  Havre, 
where  living  is  very  dear,  and  back  to  Paris,  when  she  had  no 
money  left  but  just  enough  for  the  journey.  Madame  Des- 
coings  and  Joseph,  who  met  them  as  they  alighted  from  the 
coach  in  the  yard  of  the  Messageries  Royales,  were  shocked 
at  the  change  in  Agathe. 

"Your  mother  has  grown  ten  years  older  in  two  months," 
said  the  old  lady  to  Joseph,  in  the  midst  of  the  embracing, 
while  their  two  trunks  were  taken  down. 

"Well,  Granny  Descoings,  and  how  are  you?"  was 
Philippe's  tender  greeting  to  the  grocer's  widow,  whom 
Joseph  affectionately  addressed  as  "  Maman  "  Descoings. 

"  We  have  no  money  to  pay  for  the  cab,"  said  Agathe 
piteously. 

"  But  I  have,"  replied  the  young  painter.  "  My  brother 
is  splendidly  burnt  !  "  he  exclaimed,  looking  at  Philippe. 

"  Yes,  I  am  colored  like  a  pipe.  But  you  have  not  altered, 
little  man." 

Joseph,  now  one-and-twenty,  and  much  appreciated  by  a 
few  friends  who  had  stood  by  him  in  evil  days,  felt  his 
powers,  and  was  conscious  of  his  talent.  In  a  little  society 
of  young  men  devoted  to  science,  letters,  politics,  and  phil- 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISIIMF NT.  43 

osophy,  he  represented  painting  ;  he  was  hurt  by  his  brother's 
contemptuous  tone,  emphasized  by  an  incivility  ;  Philippe 
pulled  his  ear  as  if  he  were  a  mere  child.  Agathe  observed 
the  sort  of  chill  which  came  over  Madame  Descoings  and 
Joseph  after  their  first  affectionate  warmth,  but  she  set  matters 
right  by  speaking  of  the  privations  endured  by  Philippe  dur- 
ing his  exile. 

Madame  Descoings,  anxious  to  make  a  high  day  in  honor 
of  the  return  of  the  prodigal  son,  as  she  called  him  in  her 
own  mind,  had  prepared  the  best  of  dinners  to  which  she 
had  invited  old  Claparon  and  the  elder  Desroches.  All  the 
friends  of  the  family  were  invited,  and  came  in  the  evening. 
Joseph  had  asked  Leon  Giraud,  d'Arthez,  Michel  Chrestien, 
Fulgence  Ridal,  and  Bianchon,  his  friends  of  the  coterie. 
Madame  Descoings  had  told  Bixiou — her  stepson,  as  she 
called  him — that  the  young  people  would  play  a  game  of 
ecarte.  The  younger  Desroches,  sternly  forced  by  his  father 
to  become  a  law-student,  also  joined  the  party.  Du  Bruel, 
Claparon,  Desroches,  and  the  Abbe  Loraux  stared  at  the 
traveler,  frightened  by  his  coarse  face  and  manners,  his  voice 
husky  with  dram-drinking,  his  vulgar  language  and  looks. 
While  Joseph  was  setting  out  and  arranging  the  card-tables, 
her  most  intimate  friends  gathered  round  Agathe  and  asked 
her  : 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do  with  Philippe?  " 

"I  do  not  know,"  said  she.  "But  he  is  still  determined 
not  to  serve  under  the  Bourbons." 

"  It  is  very  difficult  to  find  him  a  place  in  France.  If  he 
will  not  re-enter  the  army,  he  will  not  easily  find  a  pigeon- 
hole ready  for  him  in  the  civil  service,"  said  old  du  Bruel. 
"And  only  to  listen  to  him  is  enough  to  prove  that  he  will 
never  make  a  fortune,  like  my  son,  by  writing  plays." 

Agathe's  glance  in  reply  was  enough  to  make  them  all 
understand  how  anxious  she  was  as  to  Philippe's  prospects  ; 
and  as  neither  of  her  friends  had  any  suggestions  to  offer. 


44  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

they  all  kept  silence.  The  exile,  young  Desroches,  and 
Bixiou  were  playing  ecarte,  a  game  that  was  then  the  rage. 

"  Maman  Descoings,  my  brother  has  no  money  to  play 
with,"  said  Joseph,  in  the  kind  and  staunch  old  lady's  ear. 

The  gambler  in  the  lottery  went  to  fetch  twenty  francs,  and 
gave  them  to  the  artist,  who  quietly  slipped  them  into  his 
brother's  hands. 

All  the  guests  arrived.  Two  tables  were  set  for  boston,  and 
the  party  grew  lively.  Philippe  proved  but  a  sorry  player. 
After  winning  a  good  deal  at  first,  he  lost,  till,  by  eleven 
o'clock,  he  owed  fifty  francs  to  young  Desroches  and  Bixiou. 
The  noise  and  disputes  over  the  ecarte  more  than  once  dis- 
turbed the  peaceful  boston  players,  and  they  kept  covert 
watch  over  Philippe.  The  colonel  gave  evidence  of  such  a 
bad  spirit  that,  in  his  last  wrangle  with  young  Desroches — 
who  was  not  very  good-tempered  either — the  elder  Desroches, 
though  his  son  was  in  the  right,  pronounced  against  him,  and 
desired  him  to  play  no  more.  Madame  Descoings  d'id  the 
same  with  her  grandson,  who  had  begun  firing  such  keen 
witticisms  that  Philippe  did  not  understand  them ;  still,  they 
might  have  led  this  caustic  satirist  into  danger  if  by  chance 
one  of  his  barbed  arrows  had  pierced  the  colonel's  dense 
intelligence. 

"You  must  be  tired,"  said  Agathe  to  Philippe.  "Come 
to  your  room." 

"Traveling  forms  the  young  !  "  said  Bixiou,  smiling,  when 
Agathe  and  the  colonel  were  out  of  the  room. 

Joseph,  who  rose  with  the  dawn  and  went  early  to  rest,  did 
not  see  the  evening  out.  Next  morning  Agathe  and  her 
friend,  as  they  laid  breakfast  in  the  front  room,  could  not  help 
thinking  that  evening  company  would  cost  them  very  dear  if 
Piiilippe  went  on  playing  "  tliat  game,"  as  Madame  Descoings 
phrased  it.  The  old  woman,  now  seventy-six  years  of  age, 
proposed  to  sell  her  furniture,  to  give  up  her  rooms  on  the 
third    flour   to   the    landlord — who  was  most  willing  to  have 


A    BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT.  45 

them — to  take  Agathe's  drawing-room  for  her  bedroom,  and 
to  use  the  other  room  as  a  sitting  and  dining-room  in  one.  In 
this  v/ay  they  could  save  seven  hundred  francs  a  year.  This  re- 
trenchment would  enable  them  to  allow  Philippe  fifty  francs  a 
month  while  he  was  looking  out  tor  something  to  do.  Agathe 
accepted  the  sacrifice. 

When  the  colonel  came  down,  after  his  mother  had  asked 
him  if  he  had  been  comfortable  in  his  little  room,  the  two 
widows  laid  the  state  of  affairs  before  him.  Madame  Des- 
coings  and  Agathe,  by  combining  their  incomes,  had  five  thou- 
sand three  hundred  francs  a  year,  of  which  four  thousand  were 
Madame  Descoings'  annuity.  The  old  lady  allowed  Bixiou 
six  hundred  francs  a  year — for  the  last  six  months  she  had 
owned  him  to  be  her  grandson — and  six  hundred  to  Joseph  ; 
the  rest,  with  Agathe's  income,  was  spent  in  housekeeping 
generally.     All  their  savings  were  gone. 

"Be  quite  easy,"  said  the  colonel;  "  I  will  look  out  for 
some  appointment.  I  will  cost  you  nothing.  All  I  want  is  a 
crust  and  a  crib  for  the  present." 

Agathe  kissed  her  son,  and  his  old  friend  slipped  a  hundred 
francs  into  his  hand  to  pay  the  gambling  debt  of  the  evening 
before. 

Within  ten  days  the  sale  of  the  furniture,  the  giving  up  of 
the  rooms,  and  the  necessary  changes  in  Agathe's  dwelling 
were  effected  with  the  rapidity  to  be  seen  only  in  Paris.  Dur- 
ing these  ten  days  Philippe  regularly  made  himself  scarce 
after  breakfast,  came  in  to  dinner,  went  out  in  the  evening, 
and  did  not  come  home  to  bed  till  midnight. 

This  was  the  plan  of  life  into  which  the  soldier  fell  almost 
mechanically,  and  which  became  a  rooted  habit ;  he  had  his 
boots  blacked  on  the  Pont  Neuf  for  the  two  sous  he  would  other- 
wise have  spent  in  crossing  by  the  Pont  des  Arts  to  the  Palais 
Royal,  where  he  took  two  liqueur  glasses  of  brandy  while  read- 
ing the  papers,  an  occupation  absorbing  him  till  mid-day ;  at 
about  noon  he  made  his  way  by  the  Rue  Vivienne  to  the  Cafe 


46  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Minerve,  at  that  time  the  headquarters  of  the  Liberals,  and 
there  he  played  billiards  with  some  retired  fellow-officers. 
There,  while  he  won  or  lost,  Philippe  always  got  through  three 
or  four  more  glasses  of  various  spirits,  and  then  smoked  ten 
regie  cigars  as  he  wandered  and  lounged  about  the  streets.  In 
the  evening,  after  smoking  a  ifv^  pipes  at  the  Estaminet  Hol- 
landais,  he  went  up  to  the  gambling  tables  at  about  ten.  The 
waiter  handed  him  a  card  and  a  pin  ;  he  consulted  certain 
experienced  players  as  to  the  state  of  the  run  on  red  or  black, 
and  staked  ten  francs  at  an  opportune  moment,  never  playing 
more  than  three  times,  whether  he  won  or  lost.  When  he 
had  won,  as  he  commonly  did,  he  drank  a  tumbler  of  punch 
and  made  his  way  home  to  his  attic ;  but  by  this  time  he 
would  be  talking  of  smashing  up  the  ultras  and  the  body  guard, 
and  sing  on  the  stairs,  "  Preserve  the  Empire  from  its  foes." 
His  poor  mother,  as  she  heard  him,  would  say,  "Philippe  is 
in  good  spirits  this  evening,"  and  she  would  go  up  to  give 
him  a  kiss,  never  complaining  of  the  reek  of  punch,  spirits, 
and  tobacco. 

"  You  ought  to  be  pleased  with  me,  my  dear  mother,"  said 
he  one  day  towards  the  end  of  January,  "I  am  sure  I  lead 
the  most  regular  life  !  " 

Philippe  had  dined  out  five  times  with  some  old  comrades. 
These  soldiers  had  talked  over  the  state  of  their  affairs,  and 
discussed  the  hopes  they  founded  on  the  building  of  a  sub- 
marine vessel  to  be  employed  to  deliver  the  Emperor. 
Among  the  fellow-officers  he  here  met  again,  Philippe  was 
particularly  thick  with  a  former  captain  of  the  Dragoon  Guard 
named  Giroudeau,  in  whose  company  he  had  first  smelt  gun- 
powder. This  officer  of  dragoons  was  the  cause  of  Philippe's 
completing  what  Rabelais  calls  the  devil's  outfit,  and  adding 
a  fourth  iniquity  to  his  dram,  his  cigar,  and  his  gambling. 

One  evening,  at  the  beginning  of  February,  Giroudeau 
took  Philippe  after  dinner  to  the  Gaite  Theatre,  to  a  box 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  47 

sent  to  a  small  theatrical  paper  belonging  to  his  nephew  Finot, 
for  whom  the  old  soldier  kept  the  cash-box  and  the  accounts, 
addressed  and  checked  the  papers.  Dressed  after  the  fashion 
of  the  Bonapartist  officers  of  the  Constitutional  opposition, 
in  loose,  long  coats,  with  a  square  collar  buttoned  up  to  the 
chin,  hanging  to  their  heels,  and  decorated  with  the  rosette, 
armed  with  a  loaded  cane,  hanging  to  the  wrist  by  a  plaited 
leather  cord,  the  two  troopers  had  treated  themselves  to  a 
skinful,  as  they  expressed  it,  and  opened  their  hearts  to  each 
other  as  they  went  into  the  box.  Through  the  haze  of  a 
considerable  number  of  bottles  of  wine  and  "nips"  of 
sundry  liqueurs,  Giroudeau  pointed  out  to  Philippe  a  plump 
and  nimble  little  damsel  on  the  stage,  known  as  Florentine, 
whose  favors  and  affections,  as  well  as  the  box,  were  his 
through  the  all-powerful  influence  of  the  paper. 

"But  dear  me,"  said  Philippe,  "how  far  does  she  carry 
her  favors  for  an  old  dappled-gray  trooper  like  you  ?  " 

"  Praise  the  Lord,  I  have  never  forgotten  the  old  principles 
of  our  glorious  uniform  !  "  said  Giroudeau.  "  I  never  spent 
two  farthings  on  a  woman." 

"What  next?"  cried  Philippe,  with  a  finger  to  his  left 
eye. 

"  Quite  true,"  said  Giroudeau.  "But,  between  ourselves, 
the  paper  has  something  to  do  with  it.  To-morrow  you  will 
see,  in  two  lines,  the  management  will  be  advised  to  give 
Mademoiselle  Florentine  a  pas  seul.  On  my  word,  my  dear 
boy,  I  am  very  happy,"  said  Giroudeau. 

"Well,"  thought  Philippe,  "if  this  venerable  Giroudeau, 
in  spite  of  a  skull  as  bare  as  your  knee,  his  eight-and-forty 
years,  his  tub  (saloir),  his  face  like  a  vine-grower's,  and  his 
nose  like  a  potato,  can  be  sweetheart  to  a  dancer,  I  ought  to 
be  the  man  for  the  first  actress  in  Paris.  Where  are  such 
articles  to  be  had?"  he  asked  Giroudeau. 

"I  will  take  you  this  evening  to  see  Florentine's  humble 
home.     Though  my  dulcinea  gets  but  fifty  francs  a  montk 


48     ■  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHM::XT. 

from  the  theatre,  thanks  to  a  retired  silk  mercer  named  Car- 
dot,  who  allows  her  five  hundred  francs  a  month,  she  is  not 
so  badly  set  up." 

"Why — what?"  said  Philippe,  jealous. 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Giroudeau.     "True  love  is  blind." 

After  the  play  Giroudeau  took  Philippe  to  see  Mademoi- 
selle Florentine,  who  lived  in  the  Rue  de  Crussol,  a  stone's- 
throw  from  the  theatre. 

"  We  must  behave,"  said  Giroudeau  ;  "  Florentine  has  her 
mother  with  her.  As  you  may  suppose,  I  cannot  afford  to 
allow  her  one,  and  the  good  woman  really  is  her  mother. 
The  woman  was  a  doorkeeper,  but  she  does  not  lack  brains, 
and  her  name  is  Cabirolle.  Call  her  madame ;  she  is  par- 
ticular about  that." 

Florentine  had  at  her  house  that  evening  a  friend  of  hers, 
a  certain  Marie  Godeschal,  as  lovely  as  an  angel,  as  cold  as  a 
ballet-dancer,  and  a  pupil  of  Vestris,  who  promised  her  the 
highest  terpsichorean  distinctions.  Mademoiselle  Godeschal, 
who  was  anxious  to  come  out  at  the  "  Panorama-dramatique," 
under  the  name  of  Mariette,  counted  on  the  patronage  of  a 
first  groom  of  the  Chambers,  to  whom  Vestris  had  long 
promised  to  present  her.  Vestris,  as  yet  still  in  full  vigor, 
did  not  think  his  pupil  sufficiently  advanced.  Marie  Gode- 
schal was  ambitious,  and  she  made  her  assumed  name  of 
Mariette  famous  ;  but  her  ambition  was  praiseworthy.  She 
had  a  brother,  a  clerk  in  Derville  the  lawyer's  office.  Or- 
phans and  poor,  but  loving  each  other  truly,  the  brother  and. 
sister  had  seen  life  as  it  is  in  Paris;  he  wished  to  become  an 
attorney  so  as  to  provide  for  his  sister  ;  she  determined  in 
cold  blood  to  be  a  dancer,  and  to  avail  herself  of  her  beauty 
as  well  as  of  her  nimble  legs  to  buy  a  connection  for  her 
brother.  Apart  from  their  affections  for  each  other,  from 
their  interests  and  their  life  together,  everything  else  was  to 
them,  as  to  the  ancient  Romans  and  the  Hebrews,  barbarian, 
foreign,  and  inimical.     This  beautiful  aff"ection,  which  noth- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  49 

ing  could  ever  change,  explained  Mariette's  life  to  those  who 
knew  her  well. 

The  brother  and  sister  lived  at  this  time  on  the  eighth  floor 
of  a  house  in  the  Vieille  Rue  du  Temple.  Mariette  had 
begun  learning  at  the  age  of  ten,  and  had  now  seen  sixteen 
summers.  Alas  !  for  lack  of  a  little  dress  her  dainty  beauty, 
hidden  under  an  Angola  shawl,  perched  on  iron  pattens, 
dressed  in  cotton  print,  and  only  moderately  neat,  could 
never  be  suspected  by  any  one  but  the  Paris  lounger  in  pursuit 
of  grisettes  and  on  the  track  of  beauty  under  a  cloud. 

Philippe  fell  in  love  with  Mariette.  What  Mariette  found 
in  Philippe  was  an  ofificer  of  the  Dragoon  Guards  and  of  the 
Emperor's  staff,  a  young  man  of  seven-and-twenty,  and  the 
delight  of  proving  herself  superior  to  Florentine  by  the  evi- 
dent superiority  of  Philippe  to  Giroudeau.  Both  Florentine 
and  Giroudeau — he  to  give  his  comrade  pleasure,  and  she 
to  procure  a  protector  for  her  friend — urged  Mariette  and 
Philippe  to  a  "water-color  marriage."  The  Parisian  expres- 
sion a  la  dctrenipe  is  equivalent  to  the  words  "  morganatic 
marriage"  applied  to  kings  and  queens. 

Philippe,  as  they  went  out,  explained  to  Giroudeau  how 
poor  he  was. 

"  I  will  mention  you  to  my  nephew  Finot,"  said  Giroudeau. 
"  Look  here,  Philippe,  this  is  the  day  of  black  coats  and  fine 
words  ;  we  must  knock  under.  The  inkstand  is  all  powerful 
now.  Ink  takes  the  place  of  gunpowder,  and  words  are  used 
instead  of  shot.  After  all,  these  little  vermin  of  editors  are 
very  ingenious,  and  not  bad  fellows.  Come  to  see  me  to- 
morrow at  the  office  ;  by  that  time  I  will  have  spoken  two 
words  about  you  to  my  nephew.  Before  long  you  will  have 
something  to  do  on  some  newspaper.  Mariette,  who  will 
have  you  now  because  she  has  nothing  else — make  no  mistake 
on  that  point — no  engagement,  no  hope  of  coming  out,  and 
whom  I  told  that,  like  me,  you  were  going  in  for  journalism 
— Mariette  will  prove  that  she  loves  you  for  yourself,  and  you 
4 


50  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

will  believe  her !  Do  as  I  do ;  keep  her  from  rising  as  long 
as  you  can.  I  was  so  desperately  in  love  that  as  soon  as 
Florentine  wanted  to  dance  a  pas  seul,  I  begged  Finot  to 
write  her  up ;  but  says  my  nephew  to  me,  '  She  is  clever,  is 
she  not  ?  Well,  the  day  she  first  dances  a  step  of  her  own  she 
will  show  you  across  the  doorstep.'  That's  Finot  all  over. 
Oh,  you'll  find  him  a  wide-awake  chap." 

Next  day,  at  about  four  o'clock,  Philippe  made  his  way  to 
the  Rue  du  Sentier,  and  up  to  a  small  room  on  the  entresol, 
where  he  found  Giroudeau  shut  up  like  a  wild  beast  in  a  sort 
of  hen-coop  with  a  wicket ;  it  contained  a  little  stove,  a  little 
table,  two  little  chairs,  and  some  little  billets  for  the  fire. 
The  whole  apparatus  was  dignified  by  these  magical  words, 
Office  for  Subscribers,  painted  on  the  outside  door  in  black 
letters,  and  the  word  Cashier  in  running  hand  on  a  board 
hung  on  the  bars  of  the  cage.  Along  the  wall  opposite  the 
old  trooper's  coop  was  a  bench,  on  which  an  old  soldier  was 
eating  a  snack ;  he  had  lost  an  arm,  and  Giroudeau  addressed 
him  as  Coloquinte  (Colocynth),  by  reason,  no  doubt,  of  the 
Egyptian  hue  of  his  face. 

"Sweetly  pretty!"  said  Philippe,  looking  about  him. 
"What  business  have  you  here — you  who  rode  in  poor 
Colonel  Chabert's  charge  at  Eylau  ?     In  the  devil's  name  ! 

In  all  the  devils'   names  !     A  superior  officer "  showing 

the  utmost  astonisliment  at  his  friend's  novel  position. 

"  Why,  yes  !  Roo-ty  too-too  !  A  superior  officer  signing 
receipts  in  a  newspaper  office,"  said  Giroudeau,  settling  his 
black  silk  skull-cap.  "And  what  is  more,  I  am  the  responsi- 
ble editor  of  that  rhodomontade,"  and  he  pointed  to  tlie 
paper. 

"And  I,  who  once  went  to  Egypt,  now  go  to  the  stamp 
office,"  said  the  pensioner. 

"  Silence,  Coloquinte,"  said  Giroudeau.  "  You  are  in  the 
presence  of  a  brave  man  who  carried  the  Emperor's  orders  at 
the  battle  of  Montmirail !  " 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  61 

"  Pre-sent  arms  !  "  cried  Coloquinte.  ''  I  lost  my  missing 
arm  there." 

"Coloquinte,  mind  the  shop;  lam  going  upstairs  to  my 
nephew." 

The  two  soldiers  went  up  to  the  fifth  floor,  to  an  attic  at 
the  end  of  a  passage,  and  found  a  young  man  with  cold, 
colorless  eyes  stretched  on  a  shabby  sofa.  The  civilian  did 
not  disturb  himself,  though  he  offered  cigars  to  his  uncle  and 
his  uncle's  friend. 

*'  My  dear  fellow,"  said  Giroudeau,  in  a  meek  and  gentle 
voice,  "  here  is  the  valiant  major  of  whom  I  spoke." 

"What  then  ?  "  said  Finot,  looking  Philippe  from  head  to 
foot,  while  the  officer  lost  all  his  spirit,  like  Giroudeau,  in  the 
presence  of  the  diplomat  of  the  press. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  Giroudeau,  trying  to  play  the  uncle, 
"  the  colonel  has  just  come  from  Texas." 

"  Oh  !  you  were  caught  for  Texas  and  the  Cha}np  d'Asile? 
You  were  very  young,  too,  to  turn  soldier-ploughman." 

The  sting  of  this  witticism  can  be  appreciated  only  by 
those  who  can  remember  the  flood  of  prints,  screens,  clocks, 
bronzes,  and  casts  to  which  the  idea  of  the  soldier- ploughman 
gave  rise,  as  a  great  allegory  of  the  fate  of  Napoleon  and  his 
veterans,  which  at  last  found  vent  in  various  satirical  songs. 
The  idea  was  worth  a  million  at  least  ;  you  may  still  see  the 
soldier-ploughman  on  wall-papers  in  the  depths  of  the  prov- 
inces. 

If  this  young  man  had  not  been  Giroudeau's  nephew, 
Philippe  would  have  smacked  his  cheeks. 

"Yes,  I  was  caught  for  it;  and  I  lost  twelve  thousand 
francs  and  my  time,"  replied  he,  trying  to  force  a  smile. 

"And  you  still  love  the  Emperor?  " 

"  He  is  my  God  !  "  replied  Philippe  Bridau. 

"  You  are  a  Liberal  ?  " 

"  I  shall  always  side  with  the  Constitutional  opposition. 
Oh,  Foy  !  Manuel !  Laffitte  !     There  are  men  for  you.     They 


\2  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

will  rid  us  of  these  wretches  who  have  sneaked  in  at  the  heels 
\)f  the  foreigners." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Finot  coldly,  "you  must  take  the 
benefit  of  your  misfortunes,  for  you  are  a  victim  to  the 
Liberals,  my  good  fellow.  Remain  a  Liberal  if  you  are  set 
on  your  opinions ;  but  threaten  the  Liberals  with  divulging 
the  madness  of  the  Texas  scheme.  You  never  got  a  farthing 
of  the  national  subscription,  I  suppose?  Well,  then,  you  are 
in  a  splendid  position  :  ask  for  the  accounts  of  the  fund. 
This  is  what  will  happen  :  A  fresh  newspaper  is  now  being 
started  by  the  Opposition  under  the  auspices  of  the  deputies 
of  the  Left ;  you  will  be  made  cashier  with  a  thousand  crowns 
a  year,  a  place  for  life.  You  have  only  to  find  twenty  thou- 
sand francs  as  security;  get  them,  and  in  a  week  you  will 
have  a  berth.  I  will  advise  them  to  silence  you  by  making 
them  offer  you  the  place — but  cry  out,  and  cry  loud  !  " 

Giroudeau  allowed  Philippe  to  go  down  a  few  steps  before 
him,  pouring  out  thanks  as  he  went,  and  said  to  his  nephew  : 
"  Well,  you're  a  pretty  fellow,  you  are  !  You  let  me  hang  on 
here  with  twelve  hundred  francs  a  year " 

"The  paper  will  not  live  a  year,"  replied  Finot.  "  I  have 
something  better  for  you." 

"  By  heaven  !  "  said  Philippe  to  Giroudeau,  "that  nephew 
of  yours  is  no  fool.  I  had  never  thought  of  taking  the  benefit 
of  my  position,  as  he  puts  it." 

That  evening,  at  the  Cafe  Lemblin  and  the  Cafe  Minerve, 
Colonel  Philippe  broke  out  in  abuse  of  the  Liberals  who  sent 
a  man  to  Texas,  who  talked  gammon  about  the  soldier- 
ploughman,  who  left  brave  men  to  starve  in  misery  after 
squeezing  twenty  thousand  francs  out  of  them,  and  driving 
them  for  two  years  from  pillar  to  post. 

"I  mean  to  ask  for  an  account  of  the  money  subscribed 
for  the  Champ  d' Asile''  he  said  to  one  of  the  regular  cus- 
tomers at  the  Caf6  Minerve,  who  repeated  it  to  the  journalists 
of  the  Left. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISIIMIIXT.  53 

Philippe  did  not  go  home  to  the  Rue  Mazarine  ;  he  went 
to  tell  Mariette  that  he  was  about  to  be  employed  on  a  paper 
with  ten  thousand  subscribers,  in  which  her  terpsichorean 
ambitions  should  be  ardently  supported.  Agathe  and  Madame 
Descoings  sat  up  for  him  in  an  agony  of  terror,  for  the  Dug 
de  Berry  had  that  moment  been  assassinated. 

The  colonel  walked  in  next  day,  a  few  minutes  after  break- 
fast. When  his  mother  expressed  her  uneasiness  at  his 
absence,  he  flew  into  a  passion,  and  asked  if  he  were  of  age 
or  not. 

"  By  heaven  !  I  come  in  with  good  news,  and  you  all  look 
as  solemn  as  hearses.  The  Due  de  Berry  is  dead  !  Well,  so 
much  the  better  !  There  is  one  less  of  them  !  I  am  going 
to  be  cashier  in  a  newspaper  office,  with  a  thousand  crowns  a 
year,  so  you  are  free  from  all  worry  so  far  as  I  am  concerned," 
exclaimed  Philippe. 

"Is  it  possible ?  "  cried  Agathe. 

"Yes,  if  you  can  stand  surety  for  twenty  thousand  francs. 
You  have  only  to  deposit  your  securities  for  thirteen  hundred 
francs  a  year,  and  you  will  draw  your  half-yearly  dividends 
all  the  same." 

The  two  widows,  who  for  two  months  past  had  been  killing 
themselves  with  wondering  what  Philippe  was  doing,  and  how 
to  find  him  employment,  were  so  delighted  at  his  prospects 
that  they  thought  no  more  of  the  various  difficulties  of  the 
hour.  In  the  evening  old  du  Bruel,  Claparon,  who  was  a 
dying  man,  and  the  inflexible  Desroches  senior — the  three 
Sages  of  Greece — were  unanimous.  They  advised  the  widow 
to  stand  surety  for  her  son.  The  paper  having  been  started, 
most  fortunately,  before  the  murder  of  the  Due  de  Berry,  es- 
caped the  blow  struck  at  the  press  by  M.  Decaze.  The  widow 
Bridau's  state  securities  for  thirteen  hundred  francs  of  divi- 
dends were  deposited  as  a  pledge  for  Philippe,  and  he  was 
appointed  cashier.  This  good  son  then  promised  to  pay  the 
widows  a  hundred  francs  a  month  for  his  board  and  lodging, 


54  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

and  was  regarded  as  the  best  of  good  boys.  Those  who  had 
thought  ill  of  him  congratulated  Agathe. 

"We  judged  him  wrongly,"  they  said. 

Poor  Joseph,  not  to  be  left  in  the  lurch,  tried  to  keep  him- 
self, and  succeeded. 

At  the  end  of  three  months,  the  colonel — who  ate  and 
drank  for  four,  who  was  very  particular,  and,  under  the  pre- 
text of  his  paying,  led  the  two  widows  into  expensive  living 
— had  not  contributed  a  farthing.  Neither  his  mother  noi 
Madame  Descoings  would  remind  him  of  his  promise,  out  of 
delicate  feeling.  The  year  went  by,  and  not  one  of  the  crown* 
pieces,  which  Leon  Gozlan  picturesquely  calls  a  tiger  with 
five  claws,  had  passed  from  Philippe's  pocket  to  the  houses 
keeping.  On  this  point,  to  be  sure,  the  colonel  had  silenced 
his  scruples  of  conscience  ;  he  rarely  dined  at  home. 

"And,  after  all,  he  is  happy,"  said  his  mother.  "He  i? 
easy,  he  has  an  appointment." 

Through  the  influence  of  the  theatrical  articles,  written  by 
Vernon,  a  friend  of  Bixiou's,  of  Finot's,  and  Giroudeau's, 
Mariette  came  out ;  not  indeed  at  the  Panorama-dramatique, 
but  at  the  Porte  Saint-Martin,  where  she  was  a  success  even  by 
the  side  of  Begrand.  Among  the  directors  of  that  theatre 
there  was  just  then  a  wealthy  and  luxurious  general,  who, 
being  in  love  with  an  actress,  had  become  an  impresario  for 
her  sake.  There  are  always  in  Paris  men  in  love  with  some 
actress,  dancer,  or  singer,  who  make  themselves  theatrical 
managers  for  love's  sake.  This  general  knew  Philippe  and 
Giroudeau.  By  the  help  of  the  two  newspapers,  Finot's  and 
Philippe's,  Mariette's  debut  was  arranged  by  the  three  officers, 
with  all  the  greater  ease  because,  as  it  would  seem,  such  pas- 
sions are  always  reciprocally  helpful  in  matters  of  folly. 

Bixiou,  ever  mischievous,  had  soon  told  his  grandmother 
and  pious  Agathe  that  Philippe  the  cashier,  the  bravest  of  the 
brave,  was   the  lover  of  Mariette,  the  famous  dancer  at  the 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  55 

Porte  Saint-Martin.  The  stale  news  fell  like  a  thunder-clap 
on  the  two  widows.  In  the  first  place,  Agathe's  religious 
sentiments  made  her  look  on  the  women  of  the  stage  as  brands 
of  hell,  and  then  they  both  believed  that  such  women  ate 
gold,  drank  pearls,  and  devoured  the  finest  fortunes  that 
came  in  their  way. 

"  Why  !  "  said  Joseph  to  his  mother,  "  do  you  suppose  that 
Philippe  would  be  such  a  fool  as  to  give  any  money  to  Mari- 
ette?     Such  women  only  ruin  rich  men." 

"  There  is  a  talk  already  of  securing  Mariette  at  the  Opera- 
house,"  said  Bixiou.  "But  don't  be  alarmed,  Madame  Bridau; 
the  corps  diplomatique  haunts  the  Porte  Saint-Martin,  and 
that  handsome  girl  will  soon  throw  over  your  son.  They  say 
there  is  an  ambassador  who  is  desperately  in  love  with  Mari- 
ette. There  is  some  other  news.  Old  Claparon  is  dead,  and 
is  to  be  buried  to-morrow ;  and  his  son,  who  is  a  banker,  and 
rolling  in  gold  and  silver,  has  ordered  a  third-class  funeral. 
The  fellow  has  no  breeding.  Such  a  thing  could  not  happen 
in  China  !  " 

Philippe,  with  an  eye  to  profit,  proposed  to  marry  the 
dancer ;  but  being  on  the  eve  of  an  engagement  at  the  opera, 
Mademoiselle  Godeschal  refused  him,  either  because  she 
guessed  the  colonel's  motive  or  because  she  understood  that 
independence  was  necessary  to  her  fortunes. 

Throughout  the  remainder  of  this  year  Philippe  came  to 
see  his  mother  twice  a  month  at  most.  Where  was  he?  At 
his  office,  at  the  theatre,  or  with  Mariette.  No  light  was 
shed  on  his  proceedings  in  the  home  in  tlie  Rue  Mazarine. 

Giroudeau,  Finot,  Bixiou,  Vernon,  and  Lousteau  saw  him 
leading  a  life  of  pleasure.  Philippe  was  at  every  party  given 
by  Tullia,  one  of  the  first  singers  at  the  opera  ;  by  Florentine, 
who  took  Mariette's  place  at  the  Porte  Saint-Martin  ;  by 
Florine  and  Matifat,  Coralie  and  Camusot.  From  four  o'clock, 
when  he  left  his  office,  he  amused  himself  till  midnight ;  for 
there  was  always  some  play  arranged  the  day  before,  a  good 


66  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT, 

dinner  given  by  somebody,  an  evening  at  cards,  or  a  supper- 
party.     Philippe  lived  in  his  element. 

But  this  carnival,  which  lasted  for  eighteen  months,  was 
not  devoid  of  cares.  The  fair  Mariette  on  her  debut  at  the 
opera,  in  January,  1S21,  subjugated  one  of  the  most  brilliaHt 
dukes  of  Louis  XVIII. 's  court.  Philippe  tried  to  hold  his 
own  against  the  duke  ;  but,  notwithstanding  some  luck  at  the 
gaming  table,  as  the  month  of  April  came  round  his  passion 
compelled  him  to  borrow  from  the  cash-box  of  the  newspaper. 
In  the  month  of  May  he  owed  eleven  thousand  francs.  In 
the  course  of  that  fatal  month  Mariette  went  to  London,  to 
make  what  she  might  out  of  the  milords,  while  the  temporary 
Opera-house  was  being  built  in  the  Rue  le  Pelletier.  Philippe 
the  ill-starred  still  loved  Mariette  in  spite  of  her  flagrant  infi- 
delities— such  things  happen  ;  she,  on  her  part,  had  never 
seen  anything  in  him  but  a  rough  and  brainless  soldier,  the 
first  rung  of  the  ladder,  on  which  she  did  not  mean  to  stay 
long.  Also,  as  she  had  foreseen  the  day  when  Philippe  would 
have  no  more  money,  the  dancer  had  been  clever  enough  to 
secure  supporters  among  journalists,  which  made  it  unneces- 
sary for  her  to  cling  to  Philippe  ;  still,  she  felt  the  gratitude 
peculiar  to  women  of  her  stamp  to  the  man  who  had  been 
the  first  to  level  the  obstacles  in  the  dreadful  career  of  an 
actress. 

Philippe,  thus  obliged  to  let  his  terrible  mistress  go  to 
London  without  being  able  to  follow  her,  returned  to  his 
winter  quarters,  to  use  his  own  expression,  and  came  home  to 
his  attic  in  the  Rue  Mazarine  ;  there  he  made  many  gloomy 
reflections  as  he  went  to  bed  and  got  up  again.  He  felt  it 
impossible  to  live  otherwise  than  as  he  had  been  living  for 
this  year  past.  The  luxury  of  Mariette's  life,  the  dinners 
and  suppers,  the  evenings  spent  behind  the  scenes,  the  high 
spirits  of  wits  and  journalists,  the  turmoil  he  had  lived  in, 
and  all  the  flattering  effect  on  his  senses  and  on  his  vanity — 
this  existence,  which  is  to  be  found  only  in  Paris,  and  which 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  67 

offers  some  new  sensation  every  day,  had  become  more  than 
a  habit  to  Philippe ;  it  was  a  necessity,  like  tobacco  and  drams. 
Indeed,  he  plainly  perceived  that  he  could  not  live  without 
this  constant  enjoyment. 

The  idea  of  suicide  passed  through  his  mind,  not  on  ac- 
count of  the  deficit  which  would  be  discovered  in  his  balance, 
but  by  reason  of  the  impossibility  of  being  with  Mariette 
and  living  in  the  atmosphere  of  pleasures  in  which  he  had 
wallowed  for  the  last  twelvemonth.  Full  of  these  gloomy 
notions,  he  made  his  appearance,  for  the  first  time,  in  his 
brother's  studio,  and  found  Joseph  at  work,  in  a  blue  blouse, 
copying  a  picture  for  a  dealer. 

"So  that  is  the  way  pictures  are  made?"  said  Philippe  as 
an  opening. 

"No,"  said  Joseph,  "but  that  is  the  way  they  are 
copied." 

"  How  much  do  you  get  for  that  ?  " 

"Oh,  never  enough.  Two  hundred  and  fifty  francs;  but 
I  study  the  master's  method  ;  I  learn  by  it,  I  find  out  the 
secrets  of  the  trade.  There  is  one  of  my  pictures,"  he  went 
on,  pointing  with  the  handle  of  his  brush  to  a  sketch  of  which 
the  paint  was  still  vvet. 

"And  how  much  a  year  do  you  pocket  now?"  continued 
his  brother. 

"Unfortunately,  I  am  as  yet  unknown  excepting  to  the 
painters.  Schinner  is  giving  me  a  helping  hand ;  he  is  to 
get  me  some  work  at  the  cliateau  de  Presles,  where  I  am  going 
in  October  to  paint  some  arabesques  and  borders,  and  orna- 
ments for  the  Comte  de  Serizy,  wlio  pays  very  well.  With 
pot-boilers,  like  this  dealer's  orders,  I  may  make  eighteen 
hundred  to  two  thousand  francs  before  long,  all  clear  profit. 
But  I  shall  send  that  picture  in  to  the  next  exhibition  ;  if  it 
is  liked,  I  am  a  made  man.     My  friends  think  well  of  it." 

"I  am  no  judge,"  said  Philippe  in  a  quiet  tone,  which 
made  Joseph  look  up  at  him. 


68  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  What  is  the  matter?"  he  asked,  seeing  his  brother  look 
pale. 

"  I  want  to  know  how  long  it  would  take  you  to  paint  my 
portrait." 

*'  Well,  if  I  worked  at  nothing  else,  and  the  light  were 
good,  I  could  do  it  in  three  or  four  days." 

"  That  is  too  long.  I  can  only  give  you  a  day.  My  poor 
mother  is  so  fond  of  me  that  I  should  wish  to  leave  her  my 
likeness.     But  say  no  more  about  it." 

"  Why,  are  you  going  away  again?  " 

"Going,  never  to  return,"  said  Philippe  with  affected 
cheerfulness. 

*'  Come,  Piiilippe,  my  dear  fellow,  what  ails  you?  If  it  is 
anything  serious,  I  am  a  man,  and  I  am  not  a  simpleton.  I 
am  preparing  for  a  hard  struggle,  and  if  discretion  is  needed 
I  can  hold  my  tongue." 

"  Can  I  rely  upon  it?" 

"  On  my  honor." 

"You  will  never  say  a  word  to  any  living  being?  " 

"Never." 

"Well,  then,  I  am  going  to  blow  my  brains  out." 

"  What,  are  you  going  to  fight  a  duel  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  kill  myself." 

"Why?" 

"  I  have  taken  eleven  thousand  francs  out  of  the  cash-box, 
and  I  must  give  in  my  accounts  to-morrow ;  my  deposit- 
money  will  be  diminished  by  half;  my  poor  mother  will  be 
reduced  to  six  hundred  francs  a  year.  That,  after  all,  is 
nothing;  I  might  be  able  later  to  give  her  back  a  fortune. 
But  I  am  disgraced  ;  I  will  not  live  disgraced,"  Philippe  re- 
plied, dejectedly. 

"You  will  not  be  disgraced  if  you  pay;  but  you  will  lose 
your  place;  you  will  have  nothing  left  but  the  five  hundred 
francs  pension  attached  to  your  cross.  Still,  you  can  live  on 
five  hundred  francs." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  59 

"Good-by,"  ciied  Philippe,  who  hurried  downstairs,  and 
would  not  listen. 

Joseph  left  his  work,  and  went  down  to  join  his  mother  at 
breakfast;  but  Philippe's  confession  had  spoiled  his  appetite. 
He  took  Madame  Descoings  aside,  and  told  her  the  dreadful 
news.  The  old  woman  gave  a  loud  cry  of  dismay,  dropped  a 
pipkin  full  of  milk  that  she  had  in  her  hand,  and  sank  on  to 
a  chair.  Agathe  hurried  in.  With  one  exclamation  and  an- 
other, the  fatal  facts  were  told  to  the  mother. 

"  He?  To  fail  in  honesty  !  Bridau's  son  has  taken  money 
that  was  intrusted  to  his  keeping  !  " 

The  widow  was  trembling  in  every  limb  ;  her  eyes  seemed 
to  grow  larger  in  a  fixed  stare  ;  she  sat  down,  and  burst  into 
tears. 

"Where  is  he?"  she  cried  between  her  sobs.  "Perhaps 
he  has  thrown  himself  into  the  Seine  !  " 

"You  must  not  despair,"  said  Madame  Descoings,  "be- 
cause the  poor  boy  has  come  in  the  way  of  a  bad  woman,  and 
she  made  a  fool  of  him.  Dear  me ;  that  often  happens ! 
Until  he  came  home  Philippe  had  been  so  constantly  unlucky, 
he  had  so  few  chances  of  being  happy  and  loved,  that  we 
need  not  wonder  at  his  passion  for  this  creature.  All  passions 
lead  to  excess.  I  have  had  something  of  the  kind  in  my  life 
for  which  I  blame  myself,  and  yet  I  think  myself  an  honest 
woman.  One  fault  does  not  constitute  a  vice  !  Besides,  after 
all,  only  those  who  do  nothing  at  all  never  make  any 
mistakes." 

Agathe  was  so  overwhelmed  by  despair  that  the  old  lady 
and  Joseph  were  obliged  to  make  light  of  Philippe's  crime  by 
telling  her  that  such  things  occur  in  every  family. 

"But  he  is  eight-and-twenty."  cried  Agathe,  "he  is  no 
longer  a  child  !  "  a  cry  of  anguish  betraying  what  the  poor 
woman  thought  of  her  son's  conduct. 

"  I  assure  you,  mother,  that  he  thinks  of  nothing  but  your 
grief  and  the  wrong  he  has  done,"  said  Joseph. 


60  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"Oh,  great  God!  Bring  him  back.  Only  let  him  live, 
and  I  will  forgive  him  all  !  "  cried  the  poor  mother,  who  in 
fancy  beheld  a  horrible  picture  of  Philippe  dragged  dead  out 
of  the  river. 

For  some  minutes  awful  silence  reigned.  The  day  was 
spent  in  dreadful  suspense.  All  three  flew  to  the  sitting-room 
window  at  the  least  noise,  and  gave  themselves  up  to  endless 
conjectures. 

While  his  family  were  in  this  despair,  Philippe  was  calmly 
setting  everything  in  order  in  his  office.  He  had  the  impu- 
dence to  hand  in  his  accounts,  saying  that,  for  fear  of  mis- 
chance, he  had  kept  eleven  thousand  francs  at  his  lodgings. 
The  rascal  left  at  four  o'clock,  taking  five  hundred  francs 
more  from  the  cash-box,  and  coolly  went  up  to  the  gambling 
tables,  where  he  had  not  been  seen  since  his  appointment,  for 
he  had  at  least  understood  that  a  cashier  must  not  frequent  a 
gambling  hell.  His  subsequent  conduct  will  show  that  he  re- 
sembles his  grandfather  Rouget  rather  than  his  admirable 
father.  He  might  perhaps  have  made  a  good  general ;  but  in 
private  life  he  was  one  of  those  deep-dyed  scoundrels  who 
slielter  their  audacity  and  their  evil  deeds  behind  the  screen 
of  strict  legality,  and  under  the  reticence  of  the  family  roof. 

Philippe  was  perfectly  calm  during  this  critical  venture. 
At  first  he  won,  and  picked  up  as  much  as  six  thousand 
francs ;  but  he  let  himself  be  dazzled  by  the  hope  of  ending 
his  anxieties  at  one  stroke.  He  left  the  game  of  trente-et- 
quarante  on  hearing  that  at  the  roulette  table  there  had  been 
a  run  of  sixteen  on  the  black  ;  he  staked  five  thousand  francs 
on  the  red,  and  black  turned  up  again  for  the  seveuteenth 
time.  The  colonel  then  staked  his  remaining  thousand 
francs  on  the  black,  and  won.  Notwithstanding  this  astonish- 
ing intuition  of  the  chances,  his  head  was  not  clear  ;  he  felt 
this,  and  yet  he  would  go  on  \  but  the  spirit  of  divination 
which  guides  players,  enlightening  them  by  flashes,  was 
already  exhausted.     It  was  now  intermittent — the  gamester's 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  61 

ruin.  Intuition,  like  the  rays  of  the  sun,  acts  only  in  an  in- 
flexibly straight  line;  it  can  guess  right  only  on  condition  of 
never  diverting  its  gaze ;  the  freaks  of  chance  disturb  it. 
Philippe  lost  everything.  After  so  severe  an  ordeal  the  most 
reckless  spirit  or  the  boldest  must  collapse. 

As  he  went  home  Philippe  thought  the  less  of  his  promise 
to  kill  himself,  because  he  had  never  really  meant  it.  He 
had  forgotten  his  lost  appointment,  his  impaired  deposit- 
money,  his  mother,  and  Mariette — the  cause  of  his  ruin  ;  he 
walked  on  mechanically.  When  he  went  in,  his  mother, 
bathed  in  tears,  Madame  Descoings,  and  Joseph  threw  their 
arms  round  his  neck,  hugged  him,  and  led  him  with  rejoicing 
to  a  seat  by  the  fire. 

"Good!"  thought  he;  "the  announcement  has  had  its 
effect." 

The  wretch  put  on  an  appropriately  dolorous  face,  with  all 
the  more  ease  because  his  evening's  play  had  considerably 
upset  him.  On  seeing  her  atrocious  Benjamin  pale  and  de- 
jected, his  mother  knelt  down  by  him,  kissing  his  hands, 
pressing  them  to  her  heart,  and  looking  long  in  his  face  with 
her  eyes  full  of  tears. 

"Philippe,"  she  said  in  a  choked  voice,  "promise  not  to 
kill  yourself;   we  will  forget  everything." 

Philippe  looked  at  his  unnerved  brother,  at  Madame  Des- 
coings with  a  tear  in  her  eye,  and  he  said  to  himself,  "  They 
are  good  souls  !  "  Then  he  lifted  up  his  mother,  seated  her 
on  his  knee,  clasped  her  to  his  heart,  and  whispered  as  he 
kissed  her,  "You  have  given  me  new  life  !  " 

Madame  Descoings  contrived  to  produce  a  very  good 
dinner,  adding  a  couple  of  bottles  of  old  wine  and  a  little 
West  India  liqueur,  a  treasure  remaining  from  her  former 
stock-in-trade. 

"  Agathe,  we  must  let  him  smoke  his  cigars,"  said  she  at 
desert.     And  she  handed  Philippe  some  cigars. 

The  two  poor  souls  believed  that  by  giving  this  fellovy 


62  A  BACHELUR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

every  comfort  he  would  learn  to  love  his  home  and  stay 
there,  and  they  tried  to  accustom  themselves  to  tobacco 
smoke,  which  they  abominated.  This  immense  sacrifice  was 
not  even  suspected  by  Philippe. 

Next  day  Agathe  had  aged  by  ten  years.  Her  alarms  once 
relieved,  reflection  followed,  and  the  poor  woman  had  not 
closed  an  eye  throughout  that  dreadful  night.  She  was  now 
reduced  to  an  income  of  six  hundred  francs.  Madame  Des- 
coings,  like  all  fat  women  who  love  good  eating,  had  an 
obstinate  catarrh  and  cough,  and  was  growing  heavy  ;  her 
step  on  the  stairs  sounded  like  a  pavior's  hammer;  she  might 
die  at  a  moment's  notice,  and  four  thousand  francs  would 
perish  with  her.  Was  it  not  preposterous  to  count  on  that 
source  of  supply?  What  was  to  be  done?  What  would  be- 
come of  her?  Agathe,  resolved  to  be  a  sick-nurse  rather 
than  to  be  a  burthen  on  her  children,  was  not  thinking  of 
herself.  But  what  would  Philippe  do,  reduced  to  his  five 
hundred  francs  of  pension  attached  to  the  cross  of  the  Legion 
of  Honor? 

By  contributing  a  thousand  crowns  a  year  for  the  last 
eleven  years,  Madame  Descoings  had  more  than  twice  repaid 
her  debt,  and  she  was  still  sacrificing  her  grandson's  interests 
to  those  of  the  Bridau  family.  Agathe,  though  all  her  strict 
and  honest  sentiments  were  outraged,  in  the  midst  of  this 
dire  disaster  still  could  ask  herself  as  she  thought  of  her  son, 
"  Poor  boy,  could  he  help  it  ?  He  is  faithful  to  his  oath  as  a 
soldier.  It  is  my  fault  for  not  getting  him  married.  If  I  had 
found  him  a  wife,  he  would  not  have  formed  a  connection 
with  this  dancer.      He  has  such  a  strong  nature  !  " 

The  old  tradeswoman,  too,  had  reflected  during  the  night 
as  to  the  means  of  saving  the  honor  of  the  family.  At  day- 
break she  got  out  of  bed  and  crept  to  her  friend's  room. 

"It  is  not  your  part,  nor  Philippe's,  to  manage  this  deli- 
cate matter,"  said  she.     "  Though  our  two  old  friends,  Clap- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  63 

aron  and  du  Bruel,  are  dead,  we  still  have  old  Monsieur 
Desroches,  who  has  good  judgment,  and  I  will  go  to  him 
this  morning.  Desroches  must  report  that  Philippe  has  been 
the  victim  of  his  confidence  in  a  friend,  and  that  his  weak- 
ness in  such  cases  quite  unfits  him  for  the  post  of  cashier. 
What  has  happened  once  may  happen  again  :  Philippe  prefers 
to  retire,  thus  he  will  not  be  dismissed." 

Agathe,  seeing  in  this  official  lie  a  cloak  for  Philippe's 
honor,  at  any  rate  in  the  eyes  of  strangers,  embraced  the  old 
lady,  who  went  out  to  settle  the  dreadful  business.  Philippe 
had  slept  the  sleep  of  the  just. 

"  She  is  a  sharp  one  !  "  said  he  with  a  smile,  when  Agathe 
explained  to  her  son  why  breakfast  was  late. 

Old  Desroches,  the  last  friend  left  to  these  two  poor  women, 
still  remembered,  in  spite  of  his  hard  nature,  that  it  was 
Bridau  who  had  given  him  his  place,  and  he  executed  the 
delicate  task  proposed  to  him  with  the  skill  of  an  accom- 
plislied  diplomat.  He  came  to  dine  with  the  family,  and  to 
remind  Agathe  that  she  must  go  on  the  morrow  to  the  Treas- 
ury in  the  Rue  Vivienne  to  sign  the  transfer  of  the  securities 
to  be  sold,  and  take  out  the  coupons  for  six  hundred  francs, 
her  remaining  dividends.  The  old  man  did  not  leave  this 
hapless  household  till  he  had  obtained  Philippe's  signature  to 
a  petition  to  the  minister  of  war  begging  to  be  reinstated  in 
active  service.  Desroches  pledged  his  word  to  the  two 
women  that  he  would  forward  the  petition  through  the  depart- 
ments of  the  war  office,  and  take  advantage  of  the  Duke's 
triumph  over  Philippe  with  the  dancer  to  secure  that  great 
man's  interest, 

"  Within  three  months  he  will  be  lieutenant-colonel  in  the 
Due  de  Maufrigneuse's  regiment,  and  you  will  be  rid  of  him," 

Desroches  went  home  loaded  with  blessings  by  the  two 
women  and  Joseph. 

As  to  the  newspaper,  as  Finot  had  prophesied,  two  months 
later  it  had  ceased  to  appear.     Thus,  to  the  world,  Philippe's 


64  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

defalcation  had  no  results.  But  Agathe's  motherly  feeling 
had  been  deeply  wounded.  Her  belief  in  her  son  once 
shaken,  she  lived  in  perpetual  terrors,  mitigated  by  satisfac- 
tion when  she  found  that  her  sinister  anticipations  were 
unfounded. 

When  men  like  Philippe,  gifted  with  personal  courage,  but 
moral  cowards  and  sneaks,  see  the  course  of  affairs  around 
them  following  its  usual  channel  after  a  plunge  in  which  their 
moral  status  has  almost  perished,  this  acceptance  of  the  situ- 
ation by  their  family  or  friends  is  an  encouragement.  They 
are  sure  of  impunity  ;  their  perverted  mind,  their  gratified 
passions,  lead  them  to  consider  how  they  succeeded  in  evad- 
ing the  social  law,  and  they  become  atrociously  clever.  Thus, 
a  fortnight  after,  Philippe,  once  more  an  idle  man  and  a 
lounger,  inevitably  returned  to  the  life  of  cafes,  to  his  sittings 
relieved  by  drams,  his  long  games  of  billiards  with  punch, 
his  nightly  visit  to  the  gaming-tables,  where  he  risked  a  small 
stake  at  a  lucky  moment,  and  pocketed  such  little  winnings  as 
sufficed  to  pay  for  his  dissipations.  He  made  a  display  of 
economy  to  deceive  his  mother  and  her  friend,  wore  an  almost 
filthy  hat,  hairless  at  the  edges  of  the  crown  and  brim,  patched 
boots,  a  threadbare  greatcoat,  on  which  the  red  rosette 
scarcely  showed,  so  darkened  was  it  by  long  wear  and  soiled 
with  splashes  of  spirits  or  of  coffee.  His  greenish  buckskin 
gloves  lasted  a  long  time,  and  he  never  cast  off  his  satin  stock 
till  it  looked  like  tow. 

Mariette  was  this  man's  only  love,  and  the  dancer's  faith- 
lessness did  much  to  harden  his  heart.  Now  and  then  he  won 
more  than  he  expected,  or,  if  he  were  supping  with  his  friend 
Giroudeau,  Philippe  would  court  a  Venus  of  the  street,  out 
of  a  sort  of  brutal  scorn  for  all  her  sex.  Still  he  kept  regu- 
lar hours,  breakfasted  and  dined  at  home,  and  came  in  every 
night  at  about  one.  Three  months  of  this  wretched  life  re- 
stored Agathe  to  some  little  confidence. 

As  fo"  Joseph,  who  was  at  work  on  the  splendid  picture  to 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  65 

which  he  owed  his  reputation,  he  lived  in  his  studio.  On  the 
word  of  her  grandson,  who  firmly  believed  in  Joseph's  tri- 
umph, Madame  Descoings  lavished  maternal  care  on  the 
painter;  she  carried  up  his  breakfast  in  the  morning,  ran  his 
errands,  blacked  his  boots.  The  artist  never  appeared  till 
dinner-time,  and  gave  his  evenings  to  his  friends  of  the  Art- 
ists' Society.  He  also  read  a  great  deal ;  he  was  giving  him- 
self the  thorough  and  serious  education  which  a  man  gets  only 
from  himself,  and  which  every  man  of  talent  does,  in  fact, 
give  himself  between  the  ages  of  twenty  and  thirty.  Agathe, 
seeing  so  little  of  Joseph,  and  feeling  no  uneasiness  about 
him,  lived  in  Philippe  only,  since  he  alone  gave  her  those 
alternations  of  rising  fears  and  terrors  allayed  which  are  to  a 
certain  extent  the  very  life  of  feeling,  and  as  necessary  to 
motherhood  as  love  is. 

Desrochep,  who  came  about  once  a  week  to  call  on  the 
widow  of  his  old  friend  and  chief,  could  give  her  hopes;  the 
Due  de  Maufrigneuse  had  applied  for  Philippe  to  be  appointed 
to  his  regiment,  the  war  minister  had  asked  for  a  report ;  and  as 
the  name  of  Bridau  was  not  to  be  found  on  any  police-list  or 
in  any  criminal  trial,  in  the  early  part  of  the  year  Philippe 
would  get  his  papers  and  orders  to  join.  To  succeed  in  this 
matter,  Desroches  had  stirred  up  all  his  acquaintances  ;  his 
inquiries  at  the  head-office  of  the  police  led  to  his  hearing 
that  Philippe  was  to  be  seen  every  night  in  the  gaming-houses; 
and  he  thought  it  wise  to  communicate  the  secret  to  Madame 
Descoings,  but  to  her  alone,  begging  her  to  keep  an  eye  on 
the  future  lieutenant-colonel,  to  whom  any  scandal  might  be 
ruin  ;  for  the  moment  the  war  minister  would  not  be  likely  to 
ask  whether  Philippe  were  a  gambler.  And  once  enrolled 
under  the  regimental  flag,  the  officer  would  give  up  a  passion 
that  was  the  result  of  want  of  occupation. 

Agathe,  who  now  had  no  company  in  the  evening,  read  her 
prayers  by  the  fire,  while  Madame  Descoings  read  her  fortune 
by  the  cards,  interpreting  her  dreams,  and  applying  the  rules  of 
5 


66  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMLXT. 

the  Cabala  to  her  stakes.  The  light-hearted  and  obstinate  old 
woman  never  missed  a  drawing  of  lottery  tickets ;  she  still 
staked  on  the  same  three  numbers  which  had  never  yet  been 
drawn.  This  set  of  numbers  was  now  nearly  twenty-one  years 
old — it  would  soon  be  of  age.  Its  holder  based  high  hopes  on 
this  trivial  fact.  One  of  the  numbers  had  never  come  out  at 
any  drawing  of  either  of  the  wheels  ever  since  the  lottery  was 
founded,  so  she  staked  heavily  on  this  number,  and  on  every 
combination  of  the  three  figures.  The  bottom  mattress  of 
her  bed  was  the  hiding-place  for  the  poor  old  creature's  sav- 
ings ;  she  unsewed  it,  pushed  in  the  gold-piece  she  had  saved 
on  her  necessities,  neatly  wrapped  in  wool,  and  sewed  it  up 
again.  She  was  resolved,  at  the  last  Paris  drawing,  to  risk 
all  her  savings  on  the  combinations  of  her  cherished  three 
numbers. 

This  passion,  universally  condemned,  has  never  been  duly 
studied.  No  one  has  understood  this  opium  to  poverty. 
Did  not  the  lottery,  the  most  puissant  fairy  in  the  world,  give 
rise  to  magical  hopes?  The  turn  at  roulette,  which  gives  the 
player  a  vision  of  limitless  gold  and  enjoyments,  only  lasted 
as  long  as  a  lightning  flash  ;  while  the  lottery  gave  five  days 
of  life  to  that  glorious  gleam.  What  social  power  can,  in 
these  days,  make  you  happy  for  five  da)'s,  and  bestow  on  you 
in  fancy  all  the  delights  of  civilized  life — for  forty  sous? 
Tobacco,  a  mania  a  thousand  times  more  mischievous  than 
gambling,  destroys  the  body,  undermines  the  intellect,  stupe- 
fies the  nation  ;  the  lottery  caused  no  misfortunes  of  that 
kind.  The  passion  was  compelled  to  moderation  by  the 
interval  between  the  drawings,  and  by  the  particular  wlieel 
the  ticket-holder  might  affect.  Madame  Descoings  never 
staked  on  any  but  the  Paris  wheel.  In  the  hope  of  seeing 
the  three  numbers  drawn  which  she  had  kept  in  hand  for 
twenty  years,  she  liad  subjected  herself  to  the  greatest  priva- 
tions to  enable  her  to  stake  freely  on  the  last  drawing  of 
the  year. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  67 

When  she  had  cabalistic  dreams — for  all  her  dreams  did 
not  bear  on  the  numbers  of  the  lottery — she  would  go  and 
tell  them  to  Joseph;  he  was  the  only  being  who  would  listen 
to  her,  not  merely  without  scolding  her,  but  saying  the  kindly 
words  by  which  artists  can  soothe  a  monomania.  All  really 
great  minds  respect  and  sympathize  with  genuine  passions; 
they  understand  them,  finding  their  root  in  the  heart  or 
the  brain.  As  Joseph  saw  things,  his  brother  loved  to- 
bacco and  spirits,  his  old  Maman  Descoings  loved  lottery 
tickets,  his  mother  loved  God,  young  Desroches  loved 
lawsuits,  old  Desroches  loved  fly-fishing ;  every  one,  said  he, 
loves  something.  What  he  loved  was  ideal  beauty  in  all 
things;  he  loved  Byron's  poetry,  Gericault's  painting,  Ros- 
sini's music,  Walter  Scott's  romances. 

"Every  man  to  his  taste,  maman,"  he  would  say,  ''but 
your  three-pounder  hangs  fire  a  very  long  while,  it  seems  to 
me. 

"  It  will  not  miss.  You  shall  be  a  rich  man,  and  my  little 
Bixiou  as  well !  " 

"Give  it  all  to  your  grandson,"  cried  Joseph.  "After  all, 
do  as  you  please." 

"  Oh,  if  it  comes  out,  I  shall  have  enough  for  everybody. 
To  begin  with,  you  shall  have  a  fine  studio  ;  you  shall  not 
have  to  give  up  going  to  the  opera  in  order  to  pay  your 
models  and  colorman.  Do  you  know,  child,"  she  went  on, 
"  that  you  have  not  given  me  a  very  creditable  part  in  that 
picture  of  yours  ?  " 

Joseph,  from  motives  of  economy,  had  used  Madame  Des- 
coings as  the  model  for  a  head  in  his  splendid  painting  of  a 
young  courtesan  introduced  by  an  old  woman  to  a  Venetian 
senator.  This  work,  a  masterpiece  of  modern  art,  mistaken 
for  a  Titian  by  Gros  himself,  prepared  the  younger  painters 
to  recognize  and  proclaim  Joseph's  superiority  in  the  Salon 
of  1823. 

"Those  who  know  you,  know  well  what  you  are,"  said 


68  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

he  gaily,  "  and  why  should  you  care  about  those  who  do  not 
know  you  ?  " 

In  the  last  ten  years  the  old  woman's  face  had  acquired 
the  mellow  tone  of  an  Easter  pippin.  Her  wrinkles  had  be- 
come set  in  the  full  flesh  that  had  grown  cold  and  pulpy. 
Her  eyes,  full  of  sparkle  still,  seemed  animated  by  a  youthful 
and  eager  thought,  which  might  the  more  easily  be  regarded 
as  one  of  greed,  because  there  is  always  some  little  greed  in 
a  gambler.  Her  plump  features  betrayed  deep  dissimulation 
and  a  dominant  idea  buried  far  down  in  her  heart.  Her 
passion  required  secretiveness.  The  movement  of  her  lips 
gave  a  hint  of  gluttony.  Thus,  though  she  was  in  fact  the 
worthy  and  kind-hearted  woman  we  have  seen,  the  eye  might 
be  mistaken  in  her.  She  was  a  perfect  model  for  the  old 
woman  Joseph  wished  to  represent. 

Coralie,  a  young  actress  of  exquisite  beauty,  who  died  in 
the  bloom  of  her  youth,  the  mistress  of  a  friend  of  Bridau's, 
Lucien  de  Rubempre,  a  young  poet,  had  given  him  the  idea 
of  this  subject.  This  fine  work  was  sometimes  called  an 
imitation,  but  it  was  a  splendid  scene  as  a  setting  for  three 
portraits.  Michel  Chrestien,  a  youthful  member  of  the  Art- 
ists' Society,  had  lent  his  republican  countenance  as  a  model 
for  the  senator,  and  Joseph  gave  it  some  touches  of  maturity, 
as  he  slightly  exaggerated  the  expression  of  Madame  Des- 
coings'  face. 

This  great  picture,  which  was  to  become  so  famous,  and  to 
give  rise  to  so  much  animosity,  jealousy,  and  admiration,  was 
only  begun  ;  Joseph,  compelled  to  suspend  his  work  on  it 
and  to  execute  commissions  for  a  living,  was  busy  copying 
pictures  by  the  old  masters,  thus  studying  all  their  methods ; 
no  painter  handles  his  brush  more  learnedly.  His  good  sense 
as  an  artist  had  counseled  him  to  conceal  from  Madame  Des- 
coings  and  from  liis  mother  the  amount  of  money  he  was 
beginning  to  make,  seeing  that  each  had  a  road  to  ruin — one 
in  Plnilippc  and   the  other  in  the  lottery.     The  peculiar  cool- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISH  ME  XT.  69 

ness  shown  by  the  soldier  in  his  downfall,  the  way  in  which 
he  had  counted  on  his  pretended  purpose  of  suicide — which 
Joseph  had  seen  through — the  mistakes  he  had  made  in  the 
career  he  ought  never  to  have  abandoned — in  short,  the 
smallest  details  of  his  conduct — had  at  last  opened  Joseph's 
eyes. 

Such  insight  is  rarely  lacking  in  painters.  Occupied  day 
after  day  in  the  silence  of  the  studio,  in  work  which  leaves 
the  mind,  to  a  certain  extent,  free,  they  grow  in  some  way 
womanly  ;  their  thoughts  wander  round  the  small  facts  of 
life,  and  detect  their  covert  meaning. 

Joseph  had  bought  a  fine  old  cabinet — they  were  yet  the 
fashion — to  decorate  a  corner  of  his  studio,  where  the  light 
played  on  the  panels  in  relief,  and  gave  lustre  to  a  master- 
piece of  some  sixteenth-century  craftsman.  Inside  it  he  found 
a  secret  drawer,  where  he  hoarded  a  small  sum  in  case  of  need. 
With  the  easy  trustfulness  of  an  artist,  he  was  accustomed  to 
keep  the  cash  he  allowed  himself  for  porket-money  in  a  skull 
that  lay  on  one  of  the  divisions  of  this  cabinet ;  but,  since  his 
brother's  return,  he  found  a  constant  discrepancy  between  the 
sums  he  spent  and  the  balance  left.  The  hundred  francs  a 
month  melted  with  extraordinary  rapidity.  On  finding  noth- 
ing wlien  he  had  spent  but  forty  or  fifty  francs,  the  first  time 
he  said  to  himself,  "My  money  has  gone  traveling  post,  it 
would  seem!"  The  next  time  he  carefully  noted  his  ex- 
penses ;  but  in  vain  did  he  count,  like  Robert  Macaire, 
"Sixteen  and  five  make  twenty-three,"  it  would  not  come 
right. 

On  finding  it  a  third  time  still  more  seriously  wrong,  he 
mentioned  the  painful  subject  to  his  Maman  Descoings,  who 
loved  him,  as  he  felt,  with  that  maternal  affection,  tender, 
trusting,  credulous,  and  enthusiastic,  which  his  mother  did 
not  feel,  however  kind  she  might  be,  and  which  is  as  needful 
to  an  artist  at  the  opening  of  his  career  as  a  hen's  care  is  to 
her  chicks  till  they  are  fledged.     To  her  only  could  he  confide 


70  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLTSHMENT. 

his  horrible  suspicions.  He  was  as  sure  of  his  friends  as  of 
himself;  Madame  Descoings  would  certainly  never  take  any- 
thing to  risk  in  the  lottery  ;  and  the  poor  soul  wrung  her 
hands  at  the  thought  as  he  said,  "  Only  Philippe  could  com- 
mit this  petty  household  theft." 

"  Why  does  he  not  ask  me  for  what  he  wants?  "  exclaimed 
Joseph,  mixing  the  paints  on  his  palette  in  utter  confusion  of 
colors,  without  heeding  what  he  was  doing.  "  Should  I 
refuse  to  give  him  money  ?  " 

"  But  it  is  robbing  an  infant  ?  "  cried  the  old  woman,  with, 
horror  expressed  in  her  face. 

"  No,"  replied  Joseph,  "  he  can  have  it ;  he  is  my  brother; 
my  purse  is  his ;  but  he  ought  to  ask  me." 

"  Place  a  fixed  sum  of  money  there  this  morning  and  don't 
touch  it,"  said  Madame  Descoings;  "I  shall  know  wha 
comes  to  the  studio,  and  if  nobody  comes  in  but  Philippe 
you  will  know  for  certain." 

Thus,  by  next  day,  Joseph  had  proof  of  the  forced  loans 
levied  on  him  by  his  brother.  Philippe  came  up  to  the 
studio  in  his  brother's  absence  and  took  the  little  cash  he 
needed.     The  artist  feared  for  his  little  hoard. 

"  Wait  a  bit,  wait  a  bit,  I  will  catch  you  out,  my  fine 
rascal !  "  said  he  to  Madame  Descoings  with  a  laugh. 

"  Quite  right;  we  ought  to  punish  him,  for  I  have  found  a 
deficit  occasionally  in  my  own  purse.  But,  poor  boy,  he 
must  have  his  tobacco  ;  he  has  made  a  habit  of  it." 

"Poor  boy!  and  poor  boy  indeed  !  "  retorted  the  artist. 
"I  am  beginning  to  agree  with  Fulgence  and  Bixiou.  Phil- 
ippe is  always  dragging  at  us.  First  he  gets  mixed  up  in  a 
riot,  and  has  to  be  sent  to  America,  and  that  costs  my  mother 
twelve  thousand  francs ;  then  he  has  not  the  wit  to  find  any- 
thing in  the  wilds  of  the  New  World,  and  it  costs  just  as 
much  to  get  him  home  again  ;  under  the  pretext  of  having 
repeated  two  words  from  Napoleon  to  a  general,  he  believes 
himself  a  great  soldier,  and  bound  to  sulk  with  the  Bourbons; 


A  BACHF.LOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  71 

meanwliile  he  can  travel,  and  amuse  himself,  and  see  the 
world  !  I  am  not  to  be  caught  with  such  bird-lime  as  the  story 
of  his  woes ;  he  does  not  look  like  a  man  who  has  not  made 
himself  comfortable  wherever  he  was  ! 

"  Then  my  fine  fellow  has  a  capital  place  found  for  him; 
he  lives  like  Sardanapalus  with  an  opera  girl,  robs  the  till  of  a 
newspaper,  and  costs  his  mother  another  twelve  thousand 
francs.  Certainly,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  what  need  I 
care  ?  But  Philippe  will  bring  the  poor  mother  to  want.  He 
treats  me  like  the  dirt  under  his  feet  because  I  never  was  in 
the  Dragoon  Guards  !  And  it  will  be  my  part,  perhaps,  to 
maintain  that  poor  dear  mother  in  her  old  age,  while,  if  he 
goes  on  as  he  has  begun,  the  retired  officer  will  end  I  don't 
know  where. 

"Bixiou  said  to  me,  'Your  brother  is  a  nice  rogue!' 
Well,  your  grandson  is  right ;  Philippe  will  play  some  reckless 
trick  yet  that  will  compromise  the  honor  of  the  family,  and 
then  there  will  be  ten  or  twelve  thousand  francs  more  to  pay  ! 
He  gambles  every  evening  ;  when  he  comes  in  as  drunk  as  a 
lord  lie  drops  pricked  cards  on  the  stairs,  on  which  he  has 
noted  the  turns  of  red  and  black.  Old  Desroches  is  doing 
all  he  can  to  get  Philippe  reinstated  in  the  army ;  but,  for  my 
part,  I  believe  he  would  be  in  despair  at  having  to  serve  again. 
Could  you  have  believed  that  a  boy  with  such  beautiful  clear 
blue  eyes,  and  a  look  like  the  Chevalier  Bayard,  would  ever 
have  turned  out  such  a  scoundrel  ?  " 

Notwithstanding  the  caution  and  coolness  with  which 
Philippe  staked  his  money  every  evening,  he  was  occasionally 
cleaned  out,  as  players  say.  Then,  prompted  by  an  irresist- 
ible craving  to  have  his  stake  for  the  evening,  ten  francs,  he 
helped  himself  in  the  house  to  his  brother's  money,  to  any 
Madame  Descoings  might  leave  about,  or  to  his  mother's. 
Once  already  the  poor  widow  had  seen  through  her  first  sleep 
a   terrible  vision :    Philippe  had  come   into   her   room  and 


72  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

emptied  the  pocket  of  her  dress  of  all  the  money  in  it.     She 

had  pretended  to  be  asleep,  but  she  had  spent  the  rest  of  that 
night  in  tears.  She  saw  the  truth.  "  One  fault  does  not  con- 
stitute a  vice,"  Madame  Descoings  had  said;  but  after  con- 
stant lapses  the  vice  was  plainly  visible.  Agathe  could  no 
longer  doubt ;  her  best-beloved  son  had  neither  feeling  nor 
honor. 

The  day  after  this  dreadful  vision,  before  Philippe  went  out 
after  breakfast,  she  called  him  into  her  room  and  besought 
him  in  suppliant  tones  to  ask  her  for  the  money  he  should 
need.  But  his  demands  became  so  frequent  that  now,  for 
above  a  fortnight,  Agathe' s  savings  had  been  exhausted.  She 
had  not  a  sou  left ;  she  thought  of  seeking  work.  For  several 
evenings  she  had  discussed  with  Madame  Descoings  the  means 
of  making  money  by  her  needle;  indeed,  the  poor  mother 
had  already  asked  at  a  shop — Le  Pere  de  Famille — for  fancy- 
work  to  fill  in,  an  employment  by  which  she  might  earn  about 
a  franc  a  day.  In  spite  of  her  niece's  absolute  secrecy,  the 
old  woman  had  easily  guessed  the  reasons  for  this  eagerness 
to  make  money  by  such  feminine  arts.  Indeed,  the  change 
in  Agathe's  appearance  was  sufficiently  eloquent ;  her  fresh 
complexion  was  faded,  the  skin  was  drawn  over  the  temples 
and  cheek-bones,  her  forehead  was  seamed,  her  eyes  lost  their 
lustre,  some  inward  fire  was  evidently  consuming  her,  and  she 
spent  the  night  in  tears. 

But  what  most  deeply  ravaged  her  was  the  necessity  for 
silence  as  to  her  pain,  her  anxieties,  and  her  apprehensions. 
She  never  went  to  sleep  till  Philippe  had  come  in  ;  she  lis- 
tened for  him  in  the  street ;  she  had  studied  the  differences  in 
his  voice,  in  his  step,  in  the  very  tone  of  his  cane  rattling  on 
the  paving-stones.  She  knew  everything,  exactly  the  degree 
of  intoxication  that  he  had  reached,  quaking  as  she  heard  him 
stumble  on  the  stairs.  One  night  she  had  picked  up  some 
gold-i)ieces  on  the  spot  where  he  had  let  himself  fall.  When 
he  had   drunk  and  won,  his  voice  was  husky  and   his  stick 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  73 

dragged  ;  but  when  he  had  lost,  there  was  something  short, 
crisp,  and  furious  in  his  footstep;  he  would  sing  a  tune  in  a 
clear  voice,  and  carry  his  cane  shouldered  like  a  musket.  At 
breakfast,  if  he  had  been  winning,  his  expression  was  cheerful 
and  almost  affectionate  ;  he  jested  coarsely,  still  he  jested, 
with  Madame  Descomgs,  with  Joseph,  and  his  mother ;  if  he 
had  lost,  on  the  contrary,  he  was  morose,  his  speech  was  curt 
and  sharp,  his  gaze  hard,  and  his  gloom  quite  alarming. 

This  life  of  debauchery  and  the  habit  of  drink  left  their 
mark  day  by  day  on  the  countenance  that  had  once  been  so 
handsome.  The  veins  in  his  face  were  purple,  his  features 
grew  thick,  his  eyes  lost  their  lashes  and  looked  dry.  And 
then  Philippe,  careless  of  his  person,  carried  with  him  the 
miasma  of  smoke  and  spirits,  and  a  smell  of  muddy  boots, 
which  to  a  stranger  would  have  seemed  the  last  stamp  of 
squalor. 

**  You  ought  to  have  a  complete  new  suit  of  clothes  from 
head  to  foot,"  said  Madame  Descoings  to  Philippe  one  day 
early  in  December. 

"And  who  is  to  pay  for  them?"  said  he  bitterly.  "  My 
poor  mother  has  not  a  sou  ;  I  have  five  hundred  francs  a  year. 
It  would  cost  a  year's  pension  to  buy  me  an  outfit,  and  I 
have  pledged  it  for  three  years  to  come " 

"What  for?"   said  Joseph. 

"A  debt  of  honor.  Giroudeau  borrowed  a  thousand  francs 
from  Florentine  to  lend  to  me.  I  am  not  well  gotten  up,  it  must 
be  confessed ;  but  when  you  remember  that  Napoleon  is  at 
St.  Helena,  and  sells  his  plate  to  buy  food,  the  soldiers  that 
remain  faithful  to  him  may  very  well  walk  in  boot-tops,"  said 
he,  showing  his  boots  without  heels,  and  he  walked  off. 

"He  is  not  a  bad  fellow,"  said  Agathe ;  "he  has  good 
feelings." 

"  He  may  love  the  Emperor  and  still  keep  himself  clean," 
said  Joseph,  "If  he  took  some  care  of  himself  and  his 
clothes,  he  would  look  less  like  a  tramp." 


74  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"Joseph,  you  ought  to  be  indulgent  to  your  brother,"  said 
Agathe.  "You  can  do  just  what  you  like,  while  he  certainly 
is  out  of  his  place." 

"And  why  did  he  leave  it?"  asked  Joseph.  "What 
does  it  matter  whether  the  flag  shows  Louis  XVIII. 's  bugs  or 
Napoleon's  cockyoly  bird  if  the  bunting  flies  for  France? 
France  is  France  !  I  would  paint  for  the  devil.  A  soldier 
ought  to  fight,  if  he  is  a  soldier,  for  love  of  the  art.  If  he 
had  stayed  quietly  in  the  army,  by  this  time  he  would  be  a 
general." 

"You  are  unjust,"  said  Agathe.  "Your  father,  who 
adored  the  Emperor,  would  have  approved  of  what  he  did. 
However,  he  agrees  to  rejoin  the  army.  God  alone  knows 
what  it  costs  your  brother  to  commit  what  he  considers  an 
act  of  treason." 

Joseph  rose  to  go  up  to  his  studio  ;  but  Agathe  took  his 
hand,  saying : 

**  Be  good  to  your  brother ;  he  is  so  unfortunate." 

When  the  artist  entered  his  studio,  followed  by  Madame 
Descoings,  who  begged  him  to  spare  his  mother's  feelings, 
remarking  how  much  she  was  altered,  and  what  acute  mental 
suffering  this  alteration  betrayed,  they  found  Philippe  there, 
to  their  great  surprise. 

"  Joseph,  my  boy,"  said  he  in  an  airy  way,  "  I  am  desper- 
ately in  want  of  money.  By  the  piper  !  I  owe  thirty  francs 
for  cigars  at  the  tobacconist's,  and  I  dare  not  pass  the  cursed 
store  without  paying.  I  have  promised  to  pay  at  least  ten 
times." 

"All  right  !  I  like  this  way  best,"  said  Joseph.  "Take  it 
out  of  tlie  death's  head." 

"  Oh,  I  took  all  that  last  night  after  dinner." 

"There  were  forty-five  francs " 

"  That  is  just  what  I  made  it,"  replied  Philippe.  "  I  found 
them  there.     Was  that  wrong?  "   he  asked. 

"  No,  my  dear  fellow,  no,"  said  the  artist.     "If  you  were 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  75 

rich,  I  should  do  as  you  do;  only,  before  helping  myself,  I 
should  ask  if  it  were  convenient  to  you." 

"It  is  very  humiliating  to  have  to  ask,"  replied  Philippe. 
*'  I  would  sooner  you  should  take  it  as  I  do,  and  say  nothing. 
It  shows  more  confidence.  In  the  army,  when  a  comrade 
dies,  if  he  has  a  good  pair  of  boots  and  you  have  a  bad  pair, 
you  exchange  with  him." 

"  Yes,  but  you  don't  take  them  while  he  is  alive  !  " 

"A  mere  quibble  !  "  retorted  Philippe  with  a  shrug.  "So 
you  have  no  money?" 

"  No,"  said  Joseph,  determined  not  to  show  his  hoard. 

"  In  a  few  days  we  shall  all  be  rich,"  said  the  old  woman. 

"  Oh  yes  !  You  really  believe  that  your  three  numbers 
will  come  out  on  the  25th  at  the  Paris  drawing  !  You  must 
put  in  a  large  stake  if  you  mean  to  make  us  all  rich." 

"  A  natural  ternion  for  two  hundred  francs  will  bring  out 
three  millions,  to  say  nothing  of  the  doublets  and  the  single 
drawings." 

"At  fifteen  thousand  times  the  stake — yes,  it  is  exactly  two 
hundred  francs  ?  "  cried  Philippe. 

The  old  woman  bit  her  lip ;  she  had  dropped  an  imprudent 
hint. 

In  fact,  as  he  went  downstairs,  Philippe  was  asking  himself: 

"Where  has  that  old  witch  hidden  the  money  for  her  lot- 
tery tickets  ?  It  is  sheer  waste  of  money,  and  I  could  make 
such  good  use  of  it !  On  four  stakes  of  fifty  francs  each  I 
might  make  two  hundred  thousand  francs.  And  it  is  far 
more  certain  than  the  drawing  of  three  numbers  in  a  lot- 
tery! " 

He  wondered  where  Madame  Descoings  would  be  likely  to 
hide  her  hoard. 

On  the  eve  of  the  great  church  festivals,  Agathe  always 
went  to  church  and  stayed  there  a  long  time,  at  confession  no 
doubt,  and  in  preparing  for  communion.  It  was  now  Christ- 
mas Eve.     Madame  Descoings  would  certainly  go  out  to  buy 


76  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

some  extra  treat  for  supper,  but  perhaps  she  would  pay  for  her 
ticket  at  the  same  time.  The  lottery  was  drawn  every  five 
days,  on  the  wheels,  in  turn,  of  Bordeaux,  Lyons,  Lille, 
Strasbourg,  and  Paris.  The  Paris  drawing  took  place  on  the 
25th  of  each  month  ;  the  lists  were  closed  at  midnight  on  the 
24th.  The  soldier  studied  the  case,  and  zealously  set  himself 
to  watch. 

At  about  noon  Philippe  came  in.  Madame  Descoings  had 
gone  out,  but  she  had  taken  the  door-key.  This  was  no 
difficulty.  Philippe,  saying  that  he  had  forgotten  something, 
begged  the  woman  at  the  lodge  to  go  to  fetch  a  locksmith, 
who  lived  close  by  in  the  Rue  Guenegaud,  and  who  opened 
the  door.  Philippe's  first  idea  was  to  search  the  bed ;  he 
unmade  it,  felt  the  mattresses  before  examining  the  frame, 
and  in  the  bottom  mattress  he  felt  the  gold-pieces  wrapped  in 
paper.  He  had  soon  unsewn  the  ticking  and  picked  out 
twenty  napoleons  ;  then,  without  wasting  time  in  sewing  it 
up  again,  he  remade  the  bed  neatly  enough  to  prevent  the 
old  woman's  observing  anything  wrong. 

The  gambler  made  off  on  a  light  foot,  intending  to  play 
three  times,  at  intervals  of  three  hours,  and  for  ten  minutes 
only  each  time.  The  great  gamblers,  ever  since  1786,  when 
the  gambling-houses  were  first  opened,  the  formidable  gam- 
blers who  were  the  terror  of  the  bank,  and  who  fairly  ate 
money  at  the  tables,  to  use  the  familiar  expression  in  such 
places,  never  played  by  any  other  rule.  But  before  achieving 
this  experience  they  lost  fortunes.  All  the  philosophy  of 
those  who  farmed  the  concern  and  all  their  profit  was  derived 
from  the  rules ;  from  the  non-liability  of  the  bank  ;  from  ties 
called  draws,  of  which  half  the  winnings  remained  in  its  pos- 
session ;  and  from  the  villainous  fraud  authorized  by  the  state, 
which  made  it  optional  to  take  or  reject  the  players'  stakes. 
In  a  word,  the  bank,  while  refusing  to  play  with  a  rich  and 
cool  hand,  devoured  the  whole  fortune  of  any  player  who  was 
so  persistently  foolish  as  to  allow  himself  to  be  intoxicated  by 


PHILIPPE'S     FIRST     IDEA      WAS     TO     SEARCH     THE    BED. 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  77 

the  rapid  whirl  of  its  machinery,  for  the  dealers  at  trente-et- 
quarante  worked  almost  as  fast  as  the  roulette  could. 

Philippe  had  at  last  succeeded  in  acquiring  that  presence 
of  mind  which  enables  a  commander-in-chief  to  keep  a  keen 
eye  and  a  calm  brain  in  the  midst  of  the  whirligig  of  things. 
He  had  achieved  those  high  politics  of  gambling  which,  it 
may  be  said  incidentally,  enabled  a  thousand  men  in  Paris  to 
look  night  after  night  into  a  gulf  without  turning  giddy. 

With  these  four  hundred  francs  Philippe  was  determined  to 
make  his  fortune  in  the  course  of  the  day.  He  hid  two  hun- 
dred francs  in  his  boots,  and  kept  two  hundred  in  his  pocket. 
By  three  o'clock  he  was  at  the  gambling-house,  where  the 
Palais-Royal  theatre  now  stands,  where  the  bankers  commonly 
held  the  largest  reserve.  Half  an  hour  later  he  came  out, 
having  won  seven  thousand  francs.  He  went  to  see  Floren- 
tine, paid  her  five  hundred  francs  that  he  owed  her,  and 
invited  her  to  supper  after  the  play  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale. 
On  his  way  back,  he  went  through  the  Rue  du  Sentier  to  tell 
his  friend  Giroudeau  of  the  projected  festivity. 

At  six  o'clock  Philippe  had  won  twenty-five  thousand  francs, 
and  at  the  end  of  ten  minutes  kept  his  word  to  himself  and 
went  away.  In  the  evening,  at  ten,  he  had  won  seventy-five 
thousand  francs.  After  the  supper,  which  was  splendid, 
Philippe,  drunk  and  confident,  returned  to  the  tables  at  about 
midnight.  Then,  against  the  rule  he  had  made,  he  played 
for  an  hour  and  doubled  his  winnings.  The  bank,  from  whom 
his  mode  of  play  had  wrung  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
francs,  watched  him  with  curiosity. 

"Will  he  go  away  or  will  he  stay?"  the  men  asked  each 
other  by  a  glance.      "  If  he  stays,  he  is  done  for." 

Philippe  believed  that  luck  was  with  him,  and  stayed.  At 
three  in  the  morning  the  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs 
had  returned  to  the  cash-box. 

The  colonel,  who  had  drunk  a  good  deal  of  grog  while 
playing,  went  out  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  which  the  nip- 


78  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

ping  cold  aggravated  to  the  utmost ;  but  a  waiter  followed 
him,  picked  him  up,  and  earned  him  to  one  of  the  horrible 
places  where,  inscribed  on  a  lamp,  the  notice  may  be  read, 
"Beds  by  the  night."  The  waiter  paid  for  the  ruined  gam- 
bler, who  was  laid  on  a  bed  in  his  clothes,  and  remained  there 
till  Christmas  night.  The  managers  of  the  gambling-houses 
treated  regular  customers  and  high  players  with  respect. 

Philippe  did  not  wake  till  seven  that  evening,  his  mouth 
furred,  his  face  swelled,  and  racked  with  nervous  fever.  His 
strong  constitution  enabled  him  to  get  on  foot  to  his  mother's 
home,  whither  he  had  unwittingly  brought  sorrow,  despair, 
ruin,  and  death. 

The  day  before,  when  dinner  was  ready,  Madame  Descoings 
and  Agathe  waited  two  hours  for  Philippe.  They  did  not  sit 
down  till  seven  o'clock.  Agathe  almost  always  went  to  her 
room  at  ten;  but  as  she  wished  to  attend  midnight  mass,  she 
went  to  lie  down  directly  after  dinner.  The  old  aunt  and 
Joseph  remained  together  in  the  little  sitting-room  which  now 
served  all  purposes,  and  she  begged  him  to  work  out  ilie  sum 
of  her  much-talked-of  stake,  her  monster  stake  on  the  famous 
ternion.  She  meant  to,  go  for  the  double  numbers  and  first 
drawings,  so  as  to  combine  all  the  chances.  After  smacking 
her  lips  over  the  poetry  of  this  masterstroke,  and  pouring  out 
both  cornucopias  at  the  feet  of  her  adopted  favorite ;  after 
telling  him  all  her  dreams,  proving  that  she  could  not  fail  to 
win.  wondering  only  how  she  should  endure  such  good  fortune, 
or  wait  for  it  from  midnight  till  ten  next  morning,  Joseph, 
who  did  not  see  where  the  four  hundred  francs  were  to  come 
from,  mentioned  the  matter.  The  old  woman  smiled  and  led 
him  into  the  old  drawing-room,  now  her  bedroom. 

''  You  will  see  !  "  said  she. 

Madame  Descoings  hastily  stripped  her  bed,  and  went  for 
her  scissors  to  unstitch  the  mattress  ;  she  put  on  lier  spectacles, 
looked  at  the  ticking,  and  found   it  unsewn.     On  hearing  the 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  79 

old  woman  heave  a  sigh  that  came  from  the  depths  of  her 
bosom,  and  seemed  choked  by  the  blood  rushing  to  her  heart, 
Joseph  instinctively  held  out  his  arms  to  the  poor  old  lottery 
gambler,  and  laid  her  senseless  on  a  chair,  calling  his  mother 
to  come.  Agathe  sprang  up,  put  on  her  dressing-gown,  and 
hurried  in  ;  by  the  light  of  a  tallow  candle  she  applied  every 
common  remedy  for  a  fainting  fit — eau  de  cologne  on  her 
aunt's  temples,  cold  water  on  her  forehead,  burnt  feathers 
under  her  nose ;   at  last  he  saw  her  revive. 

"  They  were  there  this  morning  ;  he  has  taken  them — that 
wretch  !  " 

"What?"  asked  Joseph. 

'*  I  had  twenty  louis  in  my  mattress,  my  savings  for  two 
years.     Only  Philippe  can  have  taken  them " 

"But  when?"  cried  the  mother,  quite  crushed;  "he  has 
not  been  in  since  breakfast." 

"  I  should  be  glad  to  be  mistaken,"  said  the  old  woman. 
"  But  this  morning,  in  Joseph's  studio,  when  I  spoke  of  my 
stake  in  the  lottery  I  had  a  warning.  I  was  wrong  not  to  go 
down  and  take  out  my  little  lucky-penny  and  put  it  into  the 
lottery  at  once.  I  meant  to  do  it,  and  I  forget  what  hindered 
me.     Good  God  !     And  I  went  to  buy  cigars  for  him  !  " 

"But,"  said  Joseph,  "our  front-door  was  locked.  Besides, 
it  is  so  vile  that  I  will  not  believe  it.  Philippe  watched  you 
out,  unsewed  your  mattress,  premeditated !     No." 

"  I  felt  them  there  this  morning  when  I  made  my  bed  after 
breakfast,"  said  Madame  Descoings. 

Agathe,  quite  horror-stricken,  went  downstairs  to  ask  whether 
her  son  had  come  in  during  the  day,  and  the  doorkeeper  told 
her  Philippe's  fable.  The  mother,  struck  to  the  heart,  came 
up  again  completely  altered.  As  white  as  her  cotton  shift, 
she  walked,  as  we  fancy  ghosts  may  walk,  noiselessly,  slowly, 
as  if  bv  the  impulse  of  a  superhuman  power,  and  yet  almost 
mechanically.  She  held  a  candle  in  her  hand,  which  lighted 
up  her  face  and  her  eyes  fixed  in  despair.     Without  knowing 


80  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

it,  she  had  pushed  her  hair  over  her  brow  with  her  hands,  and 
this  detail  made  her  so  beautiful  in  her  horror  that  Joseph 
stood  riveted  by  this  image  of  anguish,  this  vision  of  a  statue 
of  terror  and  dejection. 

"Aunt,"  said  she,  "  take  my  spoons  and  forks;  I  have  six 
sets,  that  will  make  up  the  sum,  for  it  was  I  who  took  it  for 
Philippe ;  I  thought  I  could  replace  it  before  you  should  find 
it  out.     Oh  !  I  have  suffered !  " 

She  sat  down.     Her  dry  fixed  gaze  wavered  a  little  then. 

"It  is  he  who  has  done  the  trick,"  said  Madame  Descoings 
in  an  undertone  to  Joseph. 

"No,  no,"  repeated  Agathe.  "Take  the  silver,  sell  it; 
it  is  of  no  use  to  me ;  we  can  use  yours." 

She  went  into  her  room,  took  up  the  plate-box,  found  it 
very  light,  opened  it,  and  saw  a  pawn  ticket.  The  poor 
mother  gave  a  dreadful  cry.  Joseph  and  Madame  Descoings 
hastened  in,  glanced  at  the  box,  and  the  mother's  heroic  false- 
hood was  in  vain.  They  all  three  stood  silent,  avoiding  even 
a  glance.  At  that  moment,  with  a  gesture  almost  of  madness, 
Agathe  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips  to  seal  the  secret  which  no 
one  would  divulge.  Then  all  three  went  back  to  the  sitting- 
room  fire. 

"  I  tell  you,  my  children,  I  am  heart-broken,"  said  Mad- 
ame Descoings.  "My  numbers  will  be  drawn,  I  am  quite 
positive  !  I  am  not  thinking  of  myself,  but  of  you  two  ! 
Philippe  is  a  monster,"  she  went  on,  turning  to  her  niece. 
"'  He  does  not  love  you,  in  spite  of  all  you  have  done  for  him. 
If  you  do  not  find  some  means  to  protect  yourself,  the  wretch 
will  turn  you  into  the  street.  Promise  me  to  sell  your  stock, 
realize  the  capital,  and  sink  it  in  an  annuity.  By  taking  that 
step  you  will  never  be  a  burden  on  Joseph.  Monsieur  Des- 
roches  wants  to  set  up  his  son  in  an  office,  and  the  boy"  (he 
was  now  six-and-twenty)  "  has  found  one.  He  will  take  your 
twelve  thousand  francs  and  pay  you  an  annuity." 

Joseph  seized  his  mother's  candlestick  and  hurried  up  to 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  81 

the  studio  ;  after  a  very  brief  absence  he  came  down   with 
three  hundred  francs  in  his  hands. 

"  Here,  Maman  Descoings,"  said  he,  offering  her  his  little 
hoard,  '\it  is  no  business  of  ours  to  inquire  what  you  do  with 
your  money;  we  owe  you  what  is  missing,  and  here  it  is — 
almost  all  of  it." 

"  I ! — take  your  little  treasure,  the  result  of  your  privations, 
which  distress  me  so  much  !  Are  you  mad,  Joseph?"  cried 
the  old  woman,  evidently  torn  by  her  stupid  belief  in  the 
luck  of  her  numbers  in  the  state  lottery,  and  what  seemed  to 
her  the  sacrilege  of  such  a  proceeding. 

"  Oh  !  do  what  you  will  with  it,"  said  Agathe,  moved  to 
tears  by  this  action  of  her  true  son. 

Madame  Descoings  took  Joseph's  head  in  her  hands  and 
kissed  his  forehead. 

"  My  child,  do  not  tempt  me,"  she  said  ;  "  I  should  only 
lose  it.     The  lottery  is  a  fool's  game  !  " 

Never  was  anything  so  heroically  said  in  any  of  the  obscure 
dramas  of  private  life.  Was  it  not,  in  fact,  the  triumph  of 
affection  over  an  inveterate  vice  ? 

At  this  minute  the  bells  began  to  toll  for  midnight  mass. 

"  Besides,  it  is  too  late,"  added  the  old  woman. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  Joseph  ;  "  here  are  your  cabalistic  calcula- 
tions." 

The  magnanimous  artist  seized  the  tickets,  flew  downstairs, 
and  away  to  pay  the  stake.  When  he  was  gone,  Agathe  and 
Madame  Descoings  melted  into  tears. 

"  He  is  gone  !  "  exclaimed  the  old  gambler.  "  But  it  will 
all  be  his,  for  it  is  his  money." 

Joseph,  unluckily,  did  not  in  the  least  know  where  to  find 
the  lottery  ticket  offices,  which  those  who  frequented  them 
knew  as  well  in  Paris  as,  in  these  days,  smokers  know  the 
tobacco  shops.  The  painter  rushed  wildly  on,  looking  at  the 
lamp  signs.  When  he  asked  some  one  he  met  to  tell  him 
where  there  was  a  lottery  office,  he  was  told  that  they  were 
6 


82  'A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

closed,  but  that  one  by  the  steps  of  the  Palais  Royal  some- 
times remained  open  a  little  later.  The  artist  flew  to  the 
Palais  Royal ;  the  office  was  shut. 

"Two  minutes  sooner  and  you  could  have  paid  in  your 
stake,"  said  one  of  the  ticket-criers  who  stood  at  the  bottom 
of  the  steps,  shouting  these  strange  words,  "Twelve  hun- 
dred francs  for  forty  sous!"  and  selling  ready  numbered 
tickets. 

By  the  glimmer  of  a  street  lamp  and  the  lights  in  the 
Cafe  de  la  Rotonde,  Joseph  examined  these  tickets  to  see 
whether  by  chance  either  of  them  bore  Madame  Descoings' 
pet  numbers ;  but  he  could  not  find  one,  and  returned  home 
in  grief  at  having  done  in  vain  all  that  lay  in  his  power  to 
please  the  old  woman,  to  whom  he  related  his  disappoint- 
ments. 

Agathe  and  her  aunt  went  off  to  mass  at  Saint-Germain- 
des-Pres.  Joseph  went  to  bed.  No  one  kept  Christmas  Eve. 
Madame  Descoings  had  lost  her  head  ;  Agathe's  heart  was 
for  ever  broken. 

The  two  women  rose  late.  Ten  o'clock  was  striking  when 
Madame  Descoings  bestirred  herself  to  get  breakfast,  which 
was  not  ready  till  half-past  eleven.  By  that  time  the  long 
frames  hanging  outside  the  lottery  ticket  offices  showed  an 
array  of  figures.  If  Madame  Descoings  had  had  her  ticket, 
she  would  have  gone  by  half-past  nine  o'clock  to  the  Rue 
Neuve  des  Petits  Champs  to  learn  her  fate,  which  was  decided 
in  a  house  next  door  to  the  offices  of  the  minister  o'i  finance, 
on  a  spot  now  occupied  by  the  square  and  the  Ventadour 
theatre. 

Every  time  the  lottery  was  drawn,  the  curious  could  see  at 
the  door  of  this  building  a  posse  of  old  women,  cooks,  and 
old  men,  who  at  that  time  constituted  as  strange  a  spectacle 
as  that  of  the  stockholders  forming  a  queue  on  the  day  when 
dividends  are  paid  at  the  treasury. 

"  Well,  so  you  are  rolling  in  riches !  "  exclaimed  old  Des- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  83 

roches,  coming  in  just  as  Madame  Descoings  was  swallowing 

her  last  mouthful  of  coffee. 

*'  How?  "  cried  poor  Agathe. 

"Her  three  numbers  have  come  out,"  said  he,  holding 
out  a  list  of  numbers  written  on  a  scrap  of  paper,  such  as 
ofifice  clerks  kept  by  the  hundred  in  the  paper-tray  on  their 
desks. 

Joseph  read  the  list.  Agathe  read  the  list.  Madame 
Descoings  read  nothing.  She  fell  back  as  if  stricken  by 
lightning;  seeing  her  face  change  and  hearing  her  cry,  old 
Desroches  and  Joseph  carried  her  to  her  bed.  Agathe  went 
for  a  doctor.  The  poor  woman  had  fallen  in  a  fit  of  apo- 
plexy, and  she  did  not  recover  consciousness  until  about  four 
in  the  afternoon.  Old  Doctor  Haudry,  her  physician,  pro- 
nounced that,  notwithstanding  this  amelioration,  she  would 
do  well  to  settle  her  affairs  and  think  of  her  religious  duties. 
She  had  uttered  but  two  words,  "  Three  millions  !  " 

Old  Desroches,  to  whom  Joseph  explained  the  circum- 
stances with  the  necessary  reservations,  spoke  of  numbers 
of  lottery  gamblers  who  had  in  the  same  way  missed  a  for- 
tune on  the  day  when  by  some  fatality  they  had  failed  to  pay 
up  their  stakes ;  still,  he  understood  how  mortal  a  blow  this 
must  be  after  twenty  years  of  perseverance. 

At  five  o'clock,  when  perfect  silence  reigned  in  the  little 
dwelling,  and  when  the  dying  woman,  watched  by  Joseph  at 
the  foot  of  her  bed,  and  Agathe  at  her  pillow,  was  expecting 
her  grandson,  whom  Desroches  had  gone  to  seek,  the  sound 
of  Philippe's  step  and  walking-stick  echoed  on  the  stairs. 

"There  he  is,  there  he  is!"  cried  Madame  Descoings, 
sitting  up  in  bed,  and  suddenly  recovering  the  use  of  her 
paralyzed  tongue. 

Agathe  and  Joseph  were  impressed  by  the  impulse  of  horror 
which  so  vehemently  roused  the  sick  woman.  Their  miser- 
able expectations  were  wholly  justified  by  Philippe's  appear- 
ance :  by  his  purple,  vacant  face,  his  uncertain  gait,  and  the 


84  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

horrible  look  of  his  eyes  with  deep  red  rims,  glazed  and  yet 
wild-looking ;  he  was  shivering  violently  with  fever,  and  his 
teeth  chattered. 

"  What  the  devil  !  "  he  exclaimed.  **  Neither  bit  nor  sup, 
and  my  throat  is  on  fire.  Well,  what's  up  now?  The  foul 
fiend  puts  his  hoof  in  all  that  concerns  us.  My  old  Desco- 
ings  in  bed,  and  making  eyes  at  me  as  big  as  saucers " 

"  Be  silent,  sir,"  said  Agathe,  rising,  "At  least  you  may 
respect  the  misery  you  have  caused." 

"Hallo!  Sir?''  said  he,  looking  at  his  mother.  "My 
dear  little  mother,  that  is  not  kind  ;  do  you  no  longer  love 
your  boy  ?  ' ' 

"  Are  you  worthy  to  be  loved?  Have  you  forgotten  what 
you  did  yesterday?  You  may  look  out  for  a  lodging  for 
yourself;  you  shall  no  longer  live  with  me.  From  to- 
morrow," she  added,  "for  in  such  a  state  as  you  are  in  it 
would  be  difficult " 

"To  turn  me  out?  So  you  are  going  to  play  the  melo- 
drama of  the  Banished  Son?"  he  went  on.  "Dear,  dear! 
Is  that  how  you  take  it  ?  Well,  you  are  all  a  pretty  pack  of 
owls !  What  harm  have  I  done  ?  Cleaned  out  the  old 
woman's  mattress  for  her.  We  don't  keep  money  in  wool, 
deuce  take  it.  And  where  is  the  crime?  Did  she  not  take 
twenty  thousand  francs,  I  should  like  to  know?  Are  we  not 
her  creditors?   I  have  taken  so  much  on  account ;  that's  all." 

"  Oh,  God  I  oh,  God  !  "  cried  the  dying  woman,  clasping 
her  hands  in  prayer. 

"  Hold  your  tongue  !  "  said  Joseph,  rushing  at  his  brother 
and  clapping  his  hand  over  his  mouth. 

"Ri^ht  about  face,  half  turn  to  the  left,  you  dirty  little 
painter  !  "  replied  Philippe,  laying  his  heavy  hand  on 
Joseph's  shoulder,  turning  him  round,  and  landing  him  in  an 
armchair.  "That  is  not  the  way  to  meddle  with  the  mus- 
tache of  a  major  of  dragoons  of  the  Imperial  Guard." 

"  She  has  repaid  me  all  she  owed  me,"  cried  Agathe,  rising 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  85 

and  turning  an  angry  face  to  her  son.  "Besides,  that  is 
nobody's  business  but  mine.  You  are  killing  her.  Go," 
she  added  with  a  gesture  that  exhausted  all  her  force,  "and 
never  let  me  see  you  again.     You  are  a  villain  !  " 

"I  am  killing  her?" 

"Yes;  her  numbers  were  drawn  in  the  lottery,  and  you 
stole  the  money  she  would  have  staked." 

"  Oh,  if  she  is  dying  of  a  lost  chance,  then  it  is  not  I  who 
am  killing  her,"  retorted  the  drunkard. 

"Go,  I  say,"  said  Agathe ;  "you  fill  me  with  horror. 
You  have  every  vice  !     Good  God  !  and  is  this  my  son  ?  " 

A  hollow  croak  from  Madame  Descoings'  throat  had  aggra- 
vated Agathe's  wrath. 

"  And  yet  I  still  love  you,  mother,  though  you  are  the 
cause  of  all  my  misfortunes,"  said  Philippe.  "  And  you  can 
turn  me  out  of  doors  on  a  Christmas  Day,  the  birthday  of 
What  d'ye  call  him — Jesus  !  What  did  you  do  to  grandpapa 
Rouget,  your  father,  that  he  turned  you  out  and  disinherited 
you  ?  If  you  had  not  offended  him  in  some  way,  we  should 
have  been  rich,  and  I  should  not  have  been  reduced  to  the 
depths  of  misery.  What  did  you  do  to  your  father,  I  should 
like  to  know,  you  who  are  so  good  ?  You  see,  I  may  be  a 
very  good  boy,  and  be  turned  out  of  doors  nevertheless — I, 
the  glory  of  the  family " 

"  Its  disgrace  !  "   cried  Madame  Descoings. 

"Leave  the  room,  or  kill  me  !  "  cried  Joseph,  rushing  on 
his  brother  with  the  fury  of  a  lion, 

"  Good  God  !  good  God  !  "  cried  Agathe,  trying  to  sepa- 
rate the  brothers. 

At  this  moment  Bixiou  and  Doctor  Haudry  came  in. 
Joseph  had  knocked  down  his  brother,  and  Philippe  was 
lying  on  the  floor. 

"  He  is  a  perfect  wild  beast  !  "  he  said.  "  Not  a  word,  or 
I'll " 

"I  will  remember  this,"  bellowed  Philippe. 


86  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  A  little  family  difference?  "  said  Bixiou. 

"Pick  him  up,"  said  the  physician;  "he  is  as  ill  as  the 
old  lady  ;  undress  him,  put  him  to  bed,  and  pull  his  boots 
off." 

"That  is  easily  said,"  observed  Bixiou,  "But  they  must 
be  cut  off:  his  legs  are  swelled " 

Agathe  brought  a  pair  of  scissors.  When  she  had  slit  the 
boots,  which  at  that  time  were  worn  outside  of  tight-fitting 
trousers,  ten  gold-pieces  rolled  out  on  to  the  floor. 

"There  —  there  is  her  money,"  muttered  Philippe. 
"Blasted  idiot  that  I  am,  I  forgot  the  reserve  fund  !  So  I 
too  missed  fire  !  " 

The  delirium  of  high  fever  now  came  upon  Philippe,  who 
began  to  talk  wildly.  Joseph,  with  the  help  of  the  elder 
Desroches,  who  came  in  presently,  and  of  Bixiou,  got  the 
wretched  man  up  to  his  own  room.  Doctor  Haudry  was 
obliged  to  write  a  line  begging  the  loan  of  a  strait-waistcoat 
from  the  hospital,  for  his  mania  increased  to  such  a  pitch  that 
they  feared  he  might  kill  himself — he  was  like  a  madman. 

By  nine  o'clock  peace  was  restored.  The  Abbe  Loraux  and 
Desroches  did  what  they  could  to  comfort  Agathe,  who  sat  by 
her  aunt's  pillow,  and  never  ceased  crying ;  but  she  only 
listened  and  shook  her  head,  preserving  obstinate  silence ; 
only  Joseph  and  Madame  Descoings  knew  the  depth  and 
extent  of  the  inward  wound. 

"  He  will  do  better,  mother,"  said  Joseph  at  last,  when 
Desroches  and  Bixiou  were  gone. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  the  poor  woman,  "  but  he  is  right.     Philippe 

is  right  !     My  father  cursed  me  ;  I  have  no  right Here 

is  the  money,"  she  went  on  to  Madame  Descoings,  adding 
Joseph's  three  hundred  francs  to  the  two  Inindred  found  in 
Philippe's  possession.  "  Go  and  see  if  your  brother  wants 
something  to  drink,"  she  said  to  Joseph. 

"Will  you  keep  a  promise  made  to  a  dying  woman?" 
asked  the  old  woman,  feeling  that  lier  mind  was  going. 


J  BACHF.LOIVS  ESTABLISHMENT.  87 

"Yes,  aunt." 

"  Then  swear  to  me  to  hand  over  your  money  to  that  young 
Desroches  for  an  annuity.  You  will  miss  my  little  income, 
and  from  all  I  hear  you  say  I  know  you  will  let  that  wretch 
squeeze  you  lo  the  last  sou " 

"  Aunt,  I  swear  it." 

The  old  woman  died  on  the  31st  of  December,  five  days 
after  the  fatal  blow  so  innocently  dealt  her  by  the  elder  Des- 
roches, The  five  hundred  francs,  all  the  money  there  was  in 
the  house,  barely  sufficed  to  pay  the  expenses  of  her  funeral. 
She  left  a  very  little  plate  and  furniture,  of  which  Madame 
Bridau  paid  the  value  to  her  grandson. 

Reduced  now  to  eight  hundred  francs  a  year,  the  annuity 
paid  her  by  the  younger  Desroches — who  concluded  the 
purchase  of  a  business,  at  present  without  clients,  and  took 
her  twelve  thousand  francs  as  capital.  Agathe  gave  up  her 
rooms  on  the  third  floor  and  sold  all  but  the  most  necessary 
furniture.  When,  at  the  end  of  a  month,  Philippe  was  con- 
valescent, his  mother  coldly  explained  to  him  that  the 
expenses  of  his  illness  had  absorbed  all  her  ready  money  ; 
henceforth  she  must  work  for  her  living,  and  she  entreated 
him  in  the  most  affectionate  manner  to  rejoin  the  army  and 
provide  for  himself. 

"  You  might  have  saved  yourself  your  sermon,"  said  Phil- 
ippe, looking  at  his  mother  with  eyes  cold  from  utter  indiffer- 
ence. "I  have  very  clearly  seen  that  neither  you  nor  my 
brother  love  me  in  the  least.  I  am  alone  in  the  world  now  ! 
Well,  I  prefer  it  so." 

"Prove  yourself  worthy  to  be  loved,"  replied  the  poor 
mother,  wounded  to  the  quick,  "and  we  shall  love  you 
again." 

"  Fiddlesticks !  "  said  he,  interrupting  her. 

He  took  his  old  hat,  all  worn  at  the  edges,  and  his  stick, 
stuck  the  hat  over  his  ear,  and  went  downstairs  whistling. 

"Philippe!   where  are  you  off  to  without  any  money?" 


8S  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

cried  his  mother,  who  could  not  restrain  her  tears.  "  Here 
take " 

She  held  out  a  hundred  francs  done  up  in  paper.  Philippe 
came  up  the  steps  he  had  gone  down  and  took  the  money. 

"  And  you  do  not  kiss  me?  "  said  she,  melting  into  tears. 

He  clasped  her  to  his  breast,  without  any  of  the  effusive 
feeling  which  alone  gives  value  to  a  kiss. 

"And  where  are  you  going?"  said  Agathe. 

''To  Florentine,  Giroudeau's  mistress.  They  really  are 
friends  !  "  he  replied  coarsely. 

He  went.  Agathe  returned  to  her  room,  her  knees  quaking, 
her  eyes  dim,  her  heart  in  a  vise.  She  fell  on  her  knees,  be- 
sought God  to  protect  her  unnatural  son,  and  abdicated  the 
burthen  of  motherhood. 

In  February,  1S22,  Madame  Bridau  had  established  herself 
in  the  bedroom  formerly  occupied  by  Philippe,  over  the 
kitchen  of  her  third-floor  rooms.  The  painter's  bedroom  and 
studio  were  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  landing.  Seeing  his 
mother  reduced  so  low,  Joseph  was  determined  that  she  should 
be  as  comfortable  as  possible.  After  his  brother  had  left  he 
took  the  arrangement  of  the  attic  in  hand,  and  gave  it  an 
artistic  stamp.  He  put  in  a  carpet ;  the  bed,  very  simply 
arranged,  but  with  exquisite  taste,  had  a  character  of  monastic 
simplicity.  The  walls,  hung  with  cheap  chintz,  judiciously 
chosen  of  a  color  to  harmonize  with  the  furniture,  which  was 
cleaned  to  look  like  new,  made  the  little  room  look  neat  and 
elegant.  He  had  a  door  made  to  shut  in  the  landing,  and 
hung  it  with  a  curtain.  The  window  was  screened  by  a  blind 
that  subdued  the  light.  Thus,  though  the  poor  mother's  life 
was  restricted  to  the  simplest  expression  which  a  woman's 
life  in  Paris  can  be  reduced  to,  Agathe  was  at  any  rate  better 
off  than  anybody  in  a  similar  position,  thanks  to  her  son. 

To  spare  his  mother  the  worst  fatigues  of  housekeeping, 
Joseph  took  her  to  dine  every  day  at  a  tabic  if  hate  in  the  Rue 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  89 

de  Beaune,  frequented  by  ladies  of  respectability,  deputies, 
and  men  of  title,  where  the  charge  for  each  person  was  ninety 
francs  a  month.  Agathe,  having  only  the  breakfast  to  pro- 
vide, fell  into  the  same  habits  for  her  son  as  she  had  kept  up 
for  his  father.  In  spite  of  Joseph's  pious  fibs,  she  somehow 
found  out  that  her  dinner  cost  about  a  hundred  francs  a  month. 
Horrified  by  this  enormous  expenditure,  and  never  supposing 
that  her  son  could  earn  much  by  "  painting  naked  women," 
by  the  influence  of  her  director,  the  Abbe  Loraux,  she  ob- 
tained the  promise  of  a  place  with  seven  hundred  francs  a 
year,  in  a  lottery  ticket  office  granted  by  the  government  to 
the  Comtesse  de  Bauvan,  the  widow  of  a  Chouan  leader. 

These  lottery  offices,  bestowed  on  widows  who  had  friends 
at  court,  not  unfrequently  were  the  whole  support  of  a  family 
who  managed  the  business  of  it.  But,  under  the  Restoration, 
the  difficulty  of  finding  rewards  in  the  gift  of  a  constitutional 
government  for  all  the  services  that  had  been  done,  led  to  the 
practice  of  giving  to  impoverished  ladies  of  rank  not  one  but 
two  such  lottery  ticket  offices,  of  which  the  emoluments 
might  be  from  six  to  ten  thousand  francs.  In  such  cases  the 
widow  of  a  general  or  a  nobleman  did  not  keep  the  ticket 
office  herself;  she  had  managers  with  a  sort  of  partnership. 
When  these  managers  were  unmarried  men  they  could  not 
help  having  a  clerk  under  them,  for  the  office  always  had  to 
be  kept  open  till  midnight,  and  the  accounts  required  by  the 
minister  of  finance  were  very  elaborate. 

The  Comtesse  de  Bauvan,  to  whom  the  Abbe  Loraux  ex- 
plained Madame  Bridau's  position,  promised  that  if  her  present 
manager  should  leave,  Agathe  should  have  the  reversion ;  mean- 
while she  bargained  for  a  salary  of  six  hundred  francs  for  the 
widow.  Compelled  to  be  at  her  work  by  ten  in  the  morn- 
ing, poor  Agathe  had  scarcely  time  to  dine ;  she  returned  to 
her  office  at  seven  in  the  evening,  and  never  stirred  out  again 
before  midnight.  Never  once  for  two  years  did  Joseph  fail 
to  call  for  his  mother  and  take  her  home,  and  he  often  escorted 


90  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

her  10  dinner.  His  friends  would  see  him  leave  the  opera, 
the  Italiens,  or  the  most  splendid  drav/ing-rooms,  to  be  in  the 
Rue  Vivienne  before  midnight. 

Agathe  soon  fell  into  the  monotonously  regular  way  of  life, 
which  often  is  a  comfort  and  support  to  sorrow-stricken  souls. 
In  the  morning,  after  tidying  her  room,  where  there  were  now 
no  cats  or  little  birds,  she  cooked  the  breakfast  at  a  corner  of 
her  fireplace,  and  laid  it  in  the  studio,  where  she  ate  it  with 
her  son.  She  then  arranged  Joseph's  bedroom,  took  off  her 
fire,  and  brought  her  sewing  into  the  studio,  sitting  by  the 
little  stove,  and  leaving  the  room  if  he  had  a  visitor  or  a 
model.  Though  she  knew  nothing  of  art  or  its  processes, 
she  liked  the  stillness  of  the  place.  In  this  matter  she  made 
no  advance ;  she  affected  nothing ;  she  was  always  greatly 
astonished  at  the  importance  attached  to  color,  composition, 
and  drawing.  When  one  of  the  members  of  Joseph's  little 
club,  or  one  of  his  artist  friends,  was  discussing  such  matters 
— Schinner,  Pierre  Grassou,  or  Leon  de  Lora,  a  very  young 
student  then  known  by  the  name  of  Mistigris — she  would 
come  and  look  on  attentively,  and  never  discover  what  could 
give  occasion  to  such  big  words  and  hot  arguments. 

She  made  her  son's  linen,  mended  his  stockings  and  socks; 
she  even  went  so  far  as  to  clean  his  palette,  collect  his  paint- 
ing-rags, and  keep  the  studio  in  order.  And  seeing  his  mother 
so  intelligently  careful  of  these  little  details,  Joseph  loaded 
her  with  kindness.  If  the  mother  and  son  did  not  meet  half- 
way on  questions  of  art,  they  were  nevertheless  closely  united 
by  affection. 

The  mother  had  a  scheme.  One  morning  when  she  had 
made  much  of  Joseph  while  he  was  sketching  an  enormous 
picture — which  he  subsequently  painted,  but  which  fell  fiat — 
she  ventured  to  say  aloud — 

"  Oh,  dear !   I  wonder  what  he  is  doing?" 

"Who?" 

"Philippe." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  91 

**  By  Jove  !  the  fellow  is  having  a  hard  lime.  It  will  do 
him  good." 

"But  he  has  had  liard  times  before,  and  perhaps  that  was 
what  spoilt  him  for  us.    If  he  were  happy,  he  would  be  good." 

"  My  dear  mother,  you  fancy  that  he  was  in  distress  while 
he  was  away,  but  you  are  mistaken  ;  he  lived  at  his  ease  in 
New  York,  as  he  still  does  here " 

"  But  if  he  were  in  want,  near  us,  that  would  be  dread- 
ful  " 

"Yes,"  said  Joseph;  "and  for  my  part,  I  am  willing  to 
give  him  money,  but  I  will  not  see  him.  He  killed  poor 
Aunt  Descoings," 

"  Then  you  would  not  paint  his  portrait  ?  " 

"For  you,  mother,  I  would  suffer  martyrdom,  I  would 
remember  only  the  one  fact  that  he  is  my  brother." 

"  His  portrait  as  a  captain  of  dragoons,  on  horseback  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  have  a  fine  horse  there,  copied  from  Gros,  and  I 
do  not  know  what  to  do  with  it." 

"  Then  go  to  his  friend  and  find  out  what  has  become  of 
him." 

"I  will." 

Agathe  rose;  her  scissors,  everything  fell  on  the  floor;  she 
came  to  kiss  Joseph  on  his  forehead  and  shed  two  tears  on  his 
hair. 

"That  boy  is  your  passion,"  said  he.  "We  all  have  our 
ill-starred  passion  !  " 

That  evening  Joseph  went  to  the  Rue  du  Sen  tier  at  about 
four  o'clock,  and  tliere  he  found  his  brother,  filling  Girou- 
deau's  place.  The  elder  captain  of  dragoons  had  been 
transferred  as  cashier  to  a  weekly  paper  managed  by  his 
nephew.  Though  Finot  was  still  proprietor  of  the  little  daily 
paper  for  which  he  had  issued  shares,  though  the  shares  were 
all  in  his  own  hands,  the  ostensible  owner  and  editor  was  a 
friend  of  his  named  Lousteau,  the  son,  as  it  happened,  of 
the  sub-delegate  from  Issoudun,  on  whom  Bridau's  grand- 


92  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

father  (Doctor  Rouget)  had  wanted  to  be  revenged,  and 
consequently  Madame  Hochon's  nephew. 

To  oblige  his  uncle,  Finot  had  given  him  Philippe  as 
deputy,  paying  him,  however,  only  half  the  salary.  Every 
day  at  five  o'clock  Giroudeau  checked  the  balance  and  carried 
off  the  money  taken  during  the  day.  Coloquinte,  the  old 
soldier  who  served  as  messenger  and  who  ran  the  errands, 
also  kept  an  eye  on  Major  Philippe.  Philippe,  however,  was 
behaving  himself.  A  salary  of  six  hundred  francs  and  a 
pension  of  five  hundred  were  enough  for  him  to  live  on,  all 
the  more  because  a  fire  was  provided  for  him  during  the  day, 
and  in  the  evenings  he  could  go  to  the  play  on  the  free  list,  so 
he  had  nothing  to  pay  for  but  food  and  lodging.  Coloquinte 
was  going  out,  loaded  with  stamped  papers,  and  Philippe  was 
engaged  in  brushing  his  green  linen  office  cuffs,  when  Joseph 
walked  in. 

"Lord!  Here  is  tiic  kid,"  said  Philippe.  "Well,  we 
will  dine  together ;  you  shall  come  to  the  opera,  Florine  and 
Florentine  have  a  box.  I  am  going  with  Giroudeau ;  you 
will  be  of  the  party,  and  I  will  introduce  you  to  Nathan." 

He  took  up  his  loaded  cane,  and  wetted  the  end  of  a 
cigar. 

"  I  cannot  avail  myself  of  your  invitation  ;  I  must  look 
after  my  mother.     We  dine  at  a  table  d'hote.'' 

"Well,  and  how  is  she,  poor  dear  thing?" 

"She  is  pretty  well,"  said  the  painter.  "  I  have  made  a 
new  portrait  of  my  father  and  one  of  Aunt  Descoings.  I 
have  finished  one  of  myself,  and  I  should  like  to  give  my 
mother  one  of  you  in  the  uniform  of  the  Imperial  Dragoon 
Guards." 

"All  right." 

"  But  you  must  come  and  sit " 

"  I  am  obliged  to  be  here,  in  this  hen-coop,  every  day  from 
nine  till  five." 

"Two  Sundays  will  be  enough." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  93 

"All  right,  young  'un,"  replied  Napoleon's  erewhile  staff- 
officer,  as  he  lighted  his  cigar  at  the  porter's  lamp. 

When  Joseph  described  Philippe's  position  to  his  mother,  as 
they  went  together  to  their  dinner  in  the  Rue  de  Beaune,  he  felt 
her  hand  tremble  on  his  arm  ;  joy  lighted  up  the  faded  face  ; 
the  poor  woman  drew  breath  as  though  she  had  been  relieved 
of  some  enormous  burden.  Next  day  she  was  full  of  little 
attentions  for  Joseph,  prompted  by  her  happiness  and  grati- 
tude ;  she  dressed  his  studio  with  flowers,  and  bought  two 
vases. 

The  first  Sunday  when  Philippe  was  to  sit,  Agathe  took 
care  to  provide  an  excellent  breakfast.  She  placed  everything 
on  the  table,  not  forgetting  a  flask  of  brandy,  not  more  than 
half  full.  She  then  hid  herself  behind  a  screen,  in  which 
she  made  a  small  hole.  The  ex-dragoon  had  sent  his  uniform 
the  day  before,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  hugging  it. 
When  Philippe  mounted,  in  full  dress,  on  one  of  the  stuffed 
horses  kept  by  saddlers,  which  Joseph  had  hired,  Agathe,  not 
to  betray  herself,  was  obliged  to  hide  the  slight  noise  of 
her  weeping  under  the  voices  of  the  two  brothers  as  they 
talked. 

Philippe  sat  for  two  hours  before  and  two  hours  after 
breakfast.  At  three  in  the  afternoon  he  put  on  his  ordinary 
dress,  and,  while  smoking  a  cigar,  again  invited  his  brother 
to  dine  with  him  at  the  Palais  Royal.  He  jingled  the  gold 
in  his  pockets. 

"No,"  said  Joseph.  "You  frighten  me  when  I  see  you 
with  gold  about  you." 

"  By  heaven  !  Then  you  still  have  a  bad  opinion  of  me 
here?"  roared  the  lieutenant-colonel  in  a  voice  of  thunder. 
"  Do  you  think  a  man  can  never  save  ?  " 

"No,  no,"  said  Agathe,  coming  out  of  her  hiding-place, 
and  kissing  her  son.  "We  will  go  and  dine  with  him, 
Joseph." 

Joseph  dared  not  scold  his  mother ;  he  dressed,  and  Phil- 


94  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

ippe  took  them  to  the  Rue  Montorgueuil,  where,  at  the 
Rocher  de  Cancale,  he  gave  them  a  splendid  dinner,  for 
which  the  bill  ran  up  to  a  hundred  francs. 

"  The  devil  !  "  said  Joseph  uneasily.  "  With  a  salary  of 
eleven  hundred  francs  a  year  you  manage,  like  Ponchard  in 
the  'Dame  Blanche,'  to  save  enough  to  purchase  an  estate!  " 

"  Pooh,  I  am  in  luck,"  said  the  dragoon,  who  had  drunk 
an  enormous  quantity  of  wine. 

On  hearing  this  speech,  made  on  the  doorstep  just  as  they 
were  getting  into  a  hackney  coach  to  go  to  the  play — for 
Philippe  had  proposed  to  take  his  mother  to  the  circus,  the 
only  entertainment  of  the  kind  allowed  her  by  her  director — 
Joseph  tightened  his  hand  on  his  mother's  arm.  Agathe  at 
once  said  she  felt  unwell,  and  declined  to  go  to  the  theatre, 
so  Philippe  took  her  and  his  brother  to  the  Rue  Mazarine. 
When  she  found  herself  alone  with  Joseph  in  their  attic,  she 
sat  long  lost  in  thought. 

On  the  next  Sunday  Philippe  came  again  to  sit.  This 
time  his  mother  sat  in  the  room  with  the  brothers.  She 
brought  in  the  breakfast,  and  could  ask  the  trooper  various 
questions.  She  then  learned  that  the  nephew  of  her  mother's 
old  friend,  Madame  Hochon,  figured  in  a  small  way  in  litera- 
ture. Philippe  and  his  ally,  Giroudeau,  lived  in  the  society 
of  journalists,  actresses,  and  publishers,  and,  as  cashiers,  met 
with  some  respect.  Philippe,  who  always  took  drams  of 
kirsch  while  sitting  after  breakfast,  talked  freely.  He  boasted 
of  becoming  a  person  of  importance  again  ere  long.  But  at 
a  question  from  Joseph  as  to  his  pecuniary  means  he  kept 
silence. 

As  it  happened,  the  next  day  was  a  great  holiday,  and  the 
paper  was  not  to  come  out,  so  Philippe,  to  get  the  thing  done 
with,  proposed  to  come  and  sit  again  on  the  morrow.  Joseph 
explained  to  him  that  the  Salon  would  open  before  long,  that 
he  liad  not  money  enough  to  buy  frames  for  his  pictures,  and 
could  only  earn  it  by  finishing  a  copy  of  a  Rubens  required 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  95 

by  a  picture-dealer  named  Magus.  The  original  belonged  to 
a  rich  Swiss  banker,  who  had  loaned  it  only  for  ten  days. 
Next  day  would  be  the  last ;  it  was  therefore  absolutely  neces- 
sary to  put  off  the  sitting  till  rtie  following  Sunday. 

"  And  is  that  it  ?  "  said  Philippe,  looking  at  a  painting  by 
Rubens  that  stood  on  an  easel. 

"Yes,"  said  Joseph.  "That  is  worth  twenty  thousand 
francs.  That  is  what  genius  can  do.  There  are  such  squares 
of  canvas  that  are  worth  a  hundred  thousand  francs." 

"Well,  I  like  your  copy  best,"  said  the  dragoon. 

"It  is  fresher,"  said  Joseph,  laughing;  "but  my  copy  is 
only  worth  one  thousand  francs.  I  must  have  to-morrow  to 
give  the  old  tone  and  look  of  the  original,  that  they  may  be 
indistinguishable. 

"Good-by,  mother,"  said  Philippe,  embracing  Agathe, 
"  till  next  Sunday." 

On  the  following  day  Elie  Magus  was  to  come  for  his  copy. 
A  friend  of  Joseph's,  who  often  worked  for  the  dealer,  Pierre 
Grassou,  wished  to  see  the  copy  finished.  To  play  him  a 
trick,  Joseph  put  his  copy,  glazed  with  a  particular  varnish, 
in  the  place  of  the  original,  which  he  set  up  on  his  easel. 
Pierre  Grassou  de  Fougeres  was  completely  taken  in  and 
amazed  at  this  extraordinary  imitation. 

"  Will  you  take  in  old  Magus?"  said  Pierre  Grassou. 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,"  said  Joseph. 

But  the  dealer  did  not  come,  and  it  was  late.  Agathe  was 
to  dine  with  Madame  Desroches,  who  had  just  lost  her  hus- 
band ;  so  Joseph  proposed  to  Grassou  to  come  and  dine  at 
his  table  crhbte.  On  going  out  he  left  the  key  of  the  studio, 
as  he  always  did,  with  the  woman  who  kept  the  house-door. 

"I  am  going  to  sit  to  my  brother  this  evening,"  said 
Philippe  to  this  woman  an  hour  later.  "  He  will  be  in  pres- 
ently, and  I  will  wait  for  him  in  the  studio." 

The  woman  gave  him  the  key.  Philippe  went  up,  took  the 
copy,  thinking  it  was  the  original,  came  down,  gave  back  the 


96  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

key,  explaining  that  he  had  forgotten  something,  and  went 
off  with  the  Rubens  to  sell  it  for  three  thousand  francs.  He 
had  taken  the  precaution  of  telling  Elie  Magus,  from  his 
brother,  not  to  call  till  the  next  day.  At  night,  when  Joseph 
came  in  after  bringing  his  mother  from  Madame  Desroches', 
the  porter  told  him  of  Philippe's  vagaries,  coming  away  almost 
as  soon  as  he  had  gone  in. 

"If  he  has  not  had  the  good  taste  to  take  the  copy,  I  am  a 
ruined  man  !  "  exclaimed  the  painter,  at  once  guessing  the 
theft.  He  flew  up  the  three  flights  of  stairs  and  into  the 
studio,  and  exclaimed,  "Thank  God  !  He  has  been  what  he 
will  be  to  the  end — a  fool  and  a  knave." 

Agathe,  who  had  followed  Joseph,  did  not  understand  this 
exclamation  ;  but  when  her  son  explained  it,  she  simply  stood 
still,  dry-eyed. 

"  I  have  but  one  son  !  "  she  said  in  a  weak  voice. 

"  We  have  always  avoided  disgracing  him  before  strangers," 
replied  Joseph.  "  But  v/e  must  now  tell  the  porter  he  is  never 
to  be  admitted.  Henceforth  we  must  carry  our  keys.  I  will 
finish  the  portrait  from  memory,  there  is  little  to  be  done  to 
it." 

"Leave  it  as  it  is;  it  would  make  me  too  unhappy,"  re- 
plied his  mother,  stricken  to  the  heart,  and  appalled  by  such 
meanness. 

Philippe  knew  what  the  price  of  this  copy  was  needed  for, 
knew  the  gulf  of  difficulty  into  which  he  was  flinging  his 
brother,  and  nothing  had  deterred  him.  After  this  last  crime, 
Agathe  would  never  mention  Philippe  ;  her  face  assumed  a 
look  of  bitter,  deep,  and  concentrated  despair.  One  thought 
was  killing  her. 

"Some  day,"  she  said  to  herself,  "we  shall  see  the  name 
of  Bridau  in  the  criminal  courts." 

Two  months  after  this,  just  before  Agathe  entered  on  her 
duties  at  the  lottery  office,  a  soldier  called  one  morning  to 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  97 

see  Madame  Bridau,  who  was  at  breakfast  with  Joseph,  an- 
nouncing himself  as  a  friend  of  Philippe's  on  urgent  business. 

When  Giroudeau  mentioned  his  name  the  mother  and  son 
quailed,  all  the  more  because  the  ex-dragoon  had  a  rough, 
weather-beaten  sailor's  countenance  that  was  anything  rather 
than  reassuring.  His  ashy  gray  eyes,  his  piebald  mustache, 
the  remaining  tufts  of  hair  brushed  up  round  his  butter-colored 
bald  head,  had  an  indescribably  unwholesome  and  licentious 
look.  He  wore  an  old  iron-gray  overcoat,  with  the  rosette 
of  an  officer  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  ;  it  was  buttoned  with 
difficulty  over  a  stomach  like  a  cook's,  quite  in  keeping  with 
a  mouth  that  opened  from  ear  to  ear,  and  broad  shoulders. 
This  frame  was  carried  on  a  pair  of  thin  legs.  His  complex- 
ion, with  the  high  color  on  the  cheek-bones,  betrayed  a  jovial 
life.  The  lower  part  of  his  cheeks  was  deeply  wrinkled  and 
overlapped  his  worn  black  velvet  collar.  Among  other  decora- 
tive touches,  the  ex-dragoon  had  in  his  ears  an  enormous  pair 
of  gold  earrings, 

"  What  a  sot !  "  said  Joseph  to  himself. 

"  Madame,"  said  Finot's  uncle  and  cashier,  "  your  son  is 
in  such  an  unfortunate  predicament  that  his  friends  cannot 
help  applying  to  you  to  beg  you  to  share  the  very  considerable 
expenses  he  involves  them  in.  He  can  no  longer  do  his  work 
for  the  paper ;  and  Mademoiselle  Florentine  of  the  Porte 
Saint-Martin  has  given  him  a  room  in  a  miserable  attic  in  the 
Rue  Vendonie,  where  she  lives.  Philippe  is  dying ;  if  you 
and  his  brother  cannot  pay  for  the  doctor  and  the  medicine, 
we  shall  be  obliged,  for  his  own  sake  and  cure,  to  have  him 
taken  to  the  Capucins.  But  we  will  keep  him  ourselves  for 
three  hundred  francs  ;  he  must  positively  have  a  nurse  ;  he 
goes  out  in  the  evening  while  Mademoiselle  Florentine  is  at 
the  theatre,  and  he  takes  irritant  drinks,  bad  for  his  malady, 
and  contrary  to  rule.  And  we  are  attached  to  him  ;  it  really 
makes  us  unhappy.  The  poor  fellow  has  pledged  his  pension 
for  tliree  years ;  a  substitute  has  been  found  for  the  moment 
7 


98  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

to  fill  his  place,  and  he  gets  no  pay.  But  he  will  kill  himself, 
madame,  if  we  cannot  put  him  in  the  asylum  kept  by  Doctor 
Dubois.  It  is  a  decent  place,  and  the  charge  is  ten  francs  a 
day.     Florentine  and  I  will  pay  for  half  a  month's  treatment 

there,  do  you  pay  the  rest Come,   it  will   not   be  for 

more  than  two  months." 

"  Indeed,  monsieur,  as  a  mother  I  cannot  but  be  eternally 
grateful  for  all  you  are  doing  for  my  son,"  replied  Agathe. 
"  But  that  son  has  cut  himself  off  from  my  affection  ;  and  as 
for  money — I  have  none.  To  avoid  being  a  burden  on  this 
son,  who  works  night  and  day,  and  is  killing  himself,  who 
deserves  all  his  mother's  love,  I  am  going,  the  day  after  to- 
morrow, into  a  lottery  ticket  office  as  assistant  clerk.  At 
my  age  !  " 

"And  you,  young  man?"  said  the  trooper  to  Joseph. 
"  Come,  will  you  not  do  as  much  for  your  brother  as  a  dancer 
at  the  Porte  Saint-Martin  and  an  old  soldier ?  " 

''Look  here!"  said  Joseph,  out  of  patience.  "Would 
you  like  me  to  tell  you  in  the  plainest  language  what  was  the 
purpose  of  your  visit  ?     You  came  to  try  to  fleece  us  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  to-morrow  your  brother  will  go  to  the 
hospital." 

"  He  will  be  very  well  looked  after,"  said  Joseph.  "  If 
ever  I  should  be  in  the  same  plight,  I  should  go  there  myself." 

Giroudeau  went  away,  much  disappointed,  but  also  very 
seriously  grieved  at  having  to  send  a  man  who  had  been  on 
Napoleon's  staff  at  the  battle  of  Montereau  to  the  hospital  of 
the  Capucins. 

Three  months  after  this,  one  morning  towards  the  end  of 
July,  Agathe,  on  her  way  to  her  office,  crossing  the  Pont 
Neuf  to  save  the  toll  of  a  sou  on  the  Pont  des  Arts,  saw  a 
man  lounging  by  the  shops  of  the  Quai  de  I'Ecole  as  she 
walked  along  by  the  river  parapet.  He  wore  the  livery  of  the 
second  degree  of  poverty,  and  she  was  startled,  for  she 
thought  he  resembled  Philippe. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  99 

There  are,  in  fact,  three  degrees  of  poverty  in  Paris. 
First,  that  of  the  men  who  keep  up  appearances,  and  who 
have  the  future  before  them ;  the  poverty  of  young  men, 
artists,  men  of  the  world  who  are  down  on  their  luck.  The 
symptoms  of  this  kind  of  want  are  visible  only  to  the  micro- 
scope of  the  most  practiced  observer.  These  people  consti- 
tute the  knighthood  of  poverty  ;  they  still  ride  in  a  cab.  In 
the  second  rank  are  old  men,  to  whom  everything  is  a  matter 
of  indifference,  who,  in  the  month  of  June,  display  the  cross 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor  on  an  alpaca  coat.  This  is  the  pov- 
erty of  old  annuitants,  old  clerks  living  at  Sainte-Perine, 
careless  now  about  their  appearance.  Last  comes  poverty  in 
rags,  the  poverty  of  the  common  people,  and  the  most  poet- 
ical of  all ;  studied  by  Callot  and  Hogarth,  by  Murillo, 
Charlet,  Raffet,  Gavarni,  Meissonier  ;  adored  and  cultivated 
by  art,  especially  at  the  carnival  ! 

The  man  in  whom  the  unhappy  Agathe  fancied  she  recog- 
nized her  son  had,  as  it  were,  one  foot  on  each  of  these  two 
lowest  steps.  She  saw  a  horribly  starchless  collar,  a  mangy 
hat,  broken  and  patched  boots,  a  threadbare  overcoat  with 
buttons  that  had  lost  their  mould,  while  their  empty  gaping 
or  twisted  skins  matched  the  torn  pockets  and  greasy  collar. 
Traces  of  flue  on  the  cloth  plainly  revealed  that  if  there  were 
anything  in  those  pockets,  it  could  only  be  dust.  Out  of  a 
pair  of  ripped  iron-gray  trousers  the  man  drew  hands  as  dirty 
as  a  workman's.  Over  his  breast  a  knitted  woolen  undervest, 
tawny  with  long  wear,  of  which  the  sleeves  came  below  those 
of  the  coat,  and  the  edge  was  pulled  outside  the  trousers, 
served  visibly  and  undoubtedly  as  a  substitute  for  linen. 
Philippe  wore  a  shade  over  his  eyes  of  green  silk  stretched  on 
wire.  His  head,  almost  bald,  his  color,  and  hollow  cheeks 
showed  that  he  had  just  come  out  of  that  dreadful  hospital. 

His  blue  military  coat,  though  white  at  the  seams,  still  dis- 
played his  rosette.  Thus  every  passer-by  looked  at  this 
veteran,  a  victim  of  the  government  no  doubt,  with  curiosity, 


100  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

mingled  with  pity  ;  for  the  rosette  attracted  the  eye,  and  sug- 
gested honorable  fears  for  the  Legion  of  Honor,  even  in  the 
most  rabid  ultras.  At  that  time,  though  an  attempt  had  been 
made  to  cast  a  slur  on  the  order  by  reckless  promotions,  not 
more  than  fifty-three  thousand  persons  in  France  had  the 
right  to  display  it. 

Agache  was  thrilled  to  the  marrow.  Though  she  could  not 
possibly  love  this  son  of  hers,  she  still  could  suffer  acutely 
through  him.  Touched  by  a  last  gleam  of  motherly  feeling, 
she  shed  tears  as  she  saw  the  dashing  staff-officer  make  as 
though  he  would  go  into  a  tobacconist's  to  buy  a  cigar,  and 
stop  on  the  threshold ;  he  had  felt  in  his  pockets  and  found 
nothing.  Agathe  hastily  crossed  the  road,  drew  out  her 
purse,  pushed  it  into  Philippe's  hand,  and  fled  as  if  she  had 
committed  a  crime. 

For  two  days  after  she  could  eat  nothing  ;  she  constantly 
saw  before  her  the  horrible  vision  of  her  son  dying  of  hunger 
in  Paris. 

"When  he  has  spent  the  money  in  my  purse,  who  will 
give  him  any  !  "  thought  she.  "  Giroudeau  was  not  deceiv- 
ing us  ;  Philippe  has  just  come  out  of  the  hospital." 

She  no  longer  saw  her  poor  aunt's  murderer,  the  scourge 
of  the  family,  the  domestic  thief,  the  gambler,  drunkard,  low 
debauchee  ;  what  she  saw  was  a  discharged  patient  dying  of 
hunger,  a  smoker  bereft  of  tobacco.  At  seven-and-forty  she 
looked  like  a  woman  of  seventy.  Her  eyes  grew  dim  in  tears 
and  prayer. 

But  this  was  not  the  last  blow  to  be  dealt  her  by  this 
dreadful  son  ;  her  worst  anticipations  were  to  be  realized.  A 
conspiracy  was  discovered  of  officers  on  service,  and  the 
paragraphs  of  the  Afomfei/r  containing  the  details  of  the 
arrests  were  shouted  in  tlie  streets.  In  the  recesses  of  her 
little  coop,  in  the  lottery  office  in  the  Rue  Vivienne,  Agathe 
heard  the  name  of  Philippe  Bridau.  She  fainted  away;  and 
the  head  clerk,  understanding  her  grief  and  the  necessity  for 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  ]0l 

her   taking   some   action,  gave   her   a   fortnight's    leave    of 
absence. 

"Ah,  my  dear  !  We,  with  our  austerity,  have  driven  him 
to  this,"  she  said  to  Joseph,  as  she  went  to  lie  down. 

"  I  will  go  to  see  Desroches,"  said  Joseph. 

The  artist  went  off  to  place  his  brother's  case  in  the  hands 
of  Desroches,  who  was  regarded  as  the  craftiest  and  astutest 
attorney  in  Paris,  and  who  had  rendered  good  service  to  vari- 
ous persons  of  importance,  among  others  to  des  Lupeaulx,  at 
that  time  chief  secretary  in  a  minister's  office.  Meanwhile 
Giroudeau  came  to  call  on  the  widow,  who  trusted  him  this 
time. 

"Madame,"  said  he,  "find  twelve  thousand  francs,  and 
your  son  will  be  released  for  want  of  evidence.  We  have 
only  to  purchase  the  silence  of  two  witnesses." 

"I  will  get  them,"  said  the  poor  mother,  not  knowing 
how  or  whence. 

Inspired  by  the  danger,  she  wrote  to  her  godmother,  Mad- 
ame Hochon,  to  beg  them  of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  to  save 
Philippe.  If  Rouget  should  refuse,  she  entreated  Madame 
Hochon  to  lend  her  the  money,  promising  to  repay  it  in  two 
years.     By  return  of  post  she  received  the  following  letter  : 

**  My  dear  Child: — Though  your  brother  has,  first  and 
last,  forty  thousand  francs  a  year,  to  say  nothing  of  the 
money  he  has  saved  in  the  last  seventeen  years,  which  Mon- 
sieur Hochon  estimates  at  more  than  six  hundred  thousand 
francs,  he  will  not  spend  two  sous  on  the  nephews  he  has 
never  seen.  As  for  me — you  cannot  know  that  so  long  as  my 
husband  lives  I  shall  never  have  six  francs  to  call  my  OAvn. 
Hochon  is  the  greatest  miser  in  Issoudun  ;  I  do  not  know 
what  he  does  with  his  money  ;  he  does  not  give  his  grand- 
children twenty  francs  in  a  year.  To  borrow  it  I  should  have 
to  ask  his  leave,  and  he  would  not  give  it.  I  have  not  even 
attempted  to  speak  with  your  brother,  who  keeps  a  woman, 


102  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

whose  very  humble  servant  he  is.  It  is  pitiable  to  see  how 
the  poor  man  is  treated  in  his  own  house  when  he  has  a  siste/ 
and  nephews, 

"  I  have  hinted  to  you  several  times  that  your  presence 
at  Issoudun  might  save  your  brother,  and  rescue  from  the 
clutches  of  that  hussy  a  fortune  of  forty  or  even  sixty  thou- 
sand francs  a  year ;  but  you  do  not  answer  me,  or  seem  not 
to  have  understood  me.  So  I  write  to  you  to-day  without 
any  circumlocution.  I  sympathize  deeply  with  the  misfor 
tune  that  has  come  upon  you,  but  I  can  give  you  nothing  btJ' 
pity,  my  dearest  child. 

"  This  is  why  I  can  do  nothing  to  help  you  :  Hochon,  a> 
the  age  of  eighty-five,  eats  his  four  meals  a  day,  sups  off  hard' 
boiled  eggs  and  salad,  and  is  as  brisk  as  a  rabbit.  I  shall 
have  lived  all  my  days — for  he  will  write  my  epitaph — withou' 
ever  having  had  twenty  francs  in  my  purse.  If  you  like  t( 
come  to  Issoudun  to  combat  the  influence  of  your  brother'^- 
concubine,  though  there  are  good  reasons  why  Rouget  shoul(? 
not  receive  you  into  his  house,  I  shall  find  it  difficult  to  obtaiff 
my  husband's  permission  to  invite  you  to  mine.  Still,  you 
can  come  ;  he  will  give  way  on  that  point.  I  know  a  way  of 
getting  what  I  want  in  some  things,  and  that  is  by  talking  of 
my  will.  This  seems  to  me  so  atrocious  that  I  have  never  ytX 
had  recourse  to  it ;  but  for  you  I  would  do  the  impossible. 
I  hope  your  Philippe  will  get  out  of  the  scrape,  especially  if 
you  have  a  good  advocate ;  but  come  to  Issoudun  as  soon  as 
you  can.  Remember  that  your  brother,  at  fifty-seven,  is  older 
and  more  frail  than  Monsieur  Hochon.    So  the  case  is  urgent. 

"  Already  there  are  rumors  of  a  will  depriving  you  of  your 
inheritance  ;  but  by  Monsieur  Hochon's  account  there  is  yet 
time  to  procure  its  revocation. 

"  Farewell,  my  little  Agathe.  God  be  with  you.  And 
rely  on  your  godmother  too,  for  she  loves  you. 

"  Maximilienne  Hochon,  n^e  Lousteau. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  103 

"P.  S. — Has  my  nepliew,  Etienne,  who  writes  for  the 
papers,  and  is  intimate,  I  am  told,  with  your  son  Philippe, 
ever  been  to  pay  his  respects  to  you  ?  But  only  come,  and 
we  will  talk  about  him.." 

This  letter  gave  Agathe  much  to  think  about ;  of  course 
she  showed  it  to  Joseph,  to  whom  she  was  obliged  to  confide 
Giroudeau's  suggestion.  The  artist,  who  was  cautious  when 
his  brother  was  concerned,  pointed  out  to  his  mother  that  she 
ought  to  lay  it  all  before  Desroches.  Struck  by  the  truth 
of  this  remark,  she  and  her  son  went  next  day,  at  six  in  the 
morning,  to  call  on  the  attorney  Desroches  at  his  office  in  the 
Rue  de  Bussy. 

The  lawyer,  as  lean  as  his  father  before  him,  with  a  harsh 
voice,  a  coarse  skin,  pitiless  eyes,  and  a  face  like  a  ferret 
licking  the  blood  of  murdered  chickens  off  its  lips,  sprang 
like  a  tiger  when  he  heard  of  Giroudeau's  call. 

"Bless  me,  Mother  Bridau,"  he  cried  in  his  shrill,  hard 
voice,  "  how  long  will  you  continue  to  be  the  dupe  of  your 
cursed  scoundrel  of  a  son  ?  Do  not  give  him  a  sou.  I 
will  be  responsible  for  Philippe;  it  is  to  save  him  in  the 
future  that  I  shall  leave  him  to  the  sentence  of  the  superior 
court.  You  quail  at  the  idea  of  his  being  found  guilty,  but 
God  grant  that  his  counsel  may  fail  to  get  him  off.  You,  go 
to  Issoudun  ;  save  your  fortune  and  that  of  your  children. 
If  you  do  not  succeed,  if  your  brother  has  made  his  will  in 
that  woman's  favor,  and  you  cannot  get  him  to  revoke  it — 
well,  at  any  rate,  collect  the  materials  for  proving  undue  in- 
fluence, and  I  will  conduct  the  case.  But  there  !  You  are 
too  good  a  woman  to  know  how  to  find  out  the  grounds  for 
such  an  action.  In  the  holidays  I  will  go  myself  to  Issoudun 
— if  I  possibly  can." 

And  this  "  I  will  go  myself"  made  the  artist  shiver  in  his 
skin. 

Desroches  winked  at  Joseph  as  a  sign  that  he  should  let 


104  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

his  mother  go  downstairs  first,  and  detained  him  for  an 
instant. 

"Your  brother  is  a  base  wretch;  he,  voluntarily  or  invol- 
untarily, is  the  cause  of  the  discovery  of  the  conspiracy  ;  for 
the  rascal  is  so  cunning  that  it  is  impossible  to  find  out  the 
truth  about  it.  Fool  or  traitor — I  leave  you  to  choose  be- 
tween them.  He  will  no  doubt  be  placed  under  the  eye  of 
the  detective  police ;  but  that  is  all.  Be  quite  easy ;  I 
alone  know  even  this  much.  Hurry  off  to  Issoudun  with 
your  mother.  You  have  all  your  wits;  try  to  save  the  in- 
heritance." 

"Come,  poor  mother,  Desroches  is  right,"  said  Joseph, 
rejoining  Agathe  on  the  stairs.  "I  have  sold  my  pictures  ; 
let  us  set  out  for  Berry,  as  you  have  a  fortnight's  leave." 

Having  wTitten  to  her  godmother  to  announce  their  arrival, 
Agathe  and  Joseph  started  next  day  for  Issoudun,  leaving 
Philippe  to  his  fate.  The  diligence  went  down  the  Rue  de 
I'Enfcr  to  take  the  Orleans  road.  When  Agathe  saw  the 
Luxembourg,  whither  Philippe  had  been  transferred,  she  could 
not  help  saying — 

"After  all,  but  for  the  Allies  he  would  not  be  there 
now  !  " 

Many  sons  would  have  given  an  impatient  shrug  or  smiled 
in  pity  ;  but  Joseph,  who  was  alone  with  her  in  the  coupe  of 
the  diligence,  threw  his  arm  round  her,  and  pressed  her  to 
his  heart,  saying,  "Oh,  mother!  you  are  a  mother  as  Ra- 
phael was  a  painter  !  And  you  always  will  be  a  dear  goose  of 
a  mother  !  " 

Aroused  from  her  troubles  by  the  amusement  of  the  jour- 
ney, Madame  Bridau  was  presently  obliged  to  think  of  the 
purpose  of  her  visit.  Of  course,  she  re-read  Madame  Ho- 
chon's  letter,  which  had  so  strongly  excited  Desroches. 
Struck  by  such  words  as  "concubine"  and  "hussy,"  traced 
by  the  pen  of  an  old  woman  of  seventy,  as  pious  as  she  was 
respectable,  to  designate  the  woman  who  was  absorbing  Jean- 


A  BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT.  105 

Jacques  Rouget's  fortune,  while  he  himself  was  spoken  of  as 
a  poor  creature,  she  began  to  wonder  how  her  presence  at 
Issoudun  could  avail  to  save  her  inheritance.  Joseph,  an 
artist,  poor  and  disinterested,  knew  little  of  the  law,  and  his 
mother's  exclamation  puzzled  him. 

"Before  sending  us  off  to  protect  our  inheritance,  our 
friend  Desroches  would  have  done  well  to  explain  to  us  how 
we  can  be  robbed  of  it,"  said  he. 

"  So  far  as  my  memory  serves  me — but  my  head  was  full 
of  the  notion  of  Philippe  in  prison,  without  a  pipe  even 
perhaps,  and  on  the  eve  of  standing  his  trial  before  the 
superior  court" — said  Agathe,  "I  fancy  Desroches  said  we 
were  to  collect  materials  for  an  action  against  undue  influence 
if  it  should  appear  that  my  brother  has  made  his  will  in  favor 
of  this — this — woman." 

"A  good  joke  for  Desroches!"  cried  Joseph.  '''Well, 
if  we  can  make  nothing  of  it,  I  will  ask  him  to  go  him- 
self." 

"Do  not  then  let  us  rack  our  brains  for  nothing,"  said 
Agathe.  "When  we  are  there,  my  godmother  will  advise 
us." 

This  conversation,  held  at  the  moment  when,  after  chang- 
ing coach  at  Orleans,  Madame  Bridau  and  Joseph  were 
entering  the  district  of  Sologne,  sufficiently  betrays  the 
incapacity  o{  both  the  artist  and  his  mother  to  play  the 
part  the  terrible  attorney  had  assigned  to  them. 

But  on  returning  to  Issoudiin  after  an  absence  of  thirty 
years,  Agathe  found  the  manners  of  the  place  so  altered  that 
a  slight  sketch  of  the  life  of  the  town  is  indispensable.  With- 
out such  a  picture,  it  would  be  difficult  to  understand  Madame 
Hochon's  real  heroism  in  trying  to  help  her  goddauglUer,  or 
Jean-Jacques  Rouget's  extraordinary  position. 

Though  the  doctor  had  made  his  son  regard  Agathe  as  a 
stranger,  still,  in  a  brother,  there  was  something  rather  extraor- 
dinary in  living  for  thirty  years  without  giving  his  sister  any 


106  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

sign  of  his  existence.  This  silence  must  evidently  have  its 
cause  in  some  unusual  circumstances  which  any  relations  but 
Agatha  and  Joseph  would  long  since  have  insisted  on  knowing. 
And,  in  fact,  there  was  a  certain  connection  between  the  state 
of  the  town  and  the  Bridaus'  concerns,  which  will  come  to 
light  in  the  course  of  this  narrative. 

With  all  due  respect  to  Paris,  Issoudun  is  one  of  the  oldest 
towns  in  France.  Notwithstanding  historical  prejudice,  which 
insists  on  regarding  the  Emperor  Probus  as  the  Noah  of  Gaul, 
Cgesar  writes  of  the  fine  wine  of  Champ-Fort  fde  Campo 
Forti),  one  of  the  finest  vintages  of  Issoudun.  Rigord  men- 
tions the  town  in  terms  vvhich  allow  of  no  doubt  as  to  its 
large  population  and  extensive  commerce.  Still,  these  two 
authorities  would  give  Issoudun  a  moderate  antiquity  in  com- 
parison with  its  really  immense  age.  Excavations  lately  made 
by  a  learned  archaeologist  of  the  town,  Monsieur  Armand 
Peremet,  have  led  to  the  discovery  of  a  basilica  of  the  fifth 
century — probably  the  only  example  in  France — under  the 
famous  tower  of  Issoudun.  This  church  preserves  in  the 
materials  of  which  it  is  built  the  record  of  a  previous  civiliza- 
tion ;  for  the  stones  are  those  of  a  Roman  temple  of  earlier 
date.  And,  indeed,  the  researches  of  this  antiquary  show 
that  Issoudun,  like  all  French  towns  of  which  the  name, 
ancient  or  modern,  ends  in  dun  =  dunum,  contains  in  its 
name  a  certificate  of  native  origin.  The  syllable  dun,  attach- 
ing to  every  hill  consecrated  to  the  religion  of  tlie  Druids, 
shows  it  to  have  been  a  Celtic  military  and  religious  centre. 
The  Romans  then  may  have  built  at  the  foot  of  the  Dun  of  the 
Gauls  a  temple  to  Isis ;  hence,  according  to  Chaumon,  the 
name  of  the  town,  Is-sous-dun  (Is[is]-under-hill) — "■  Is  "  being 
an  abbreviated  form  of  Isis. 

Richard  Coeur  de  Lion  undoubtedly  built  the  famous  tower, 
where  he  coined  money,  over  a  basilica  of  the  fifth  century, 
the  third  sanctuary  of  the  third  religion  of  this  ancient  city. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  107 

He  made  use  of  tl^.e  church  as  a  base  which  he  needed  to  add 
to  the  height  of  his  ramparts,  and  preserved  it  by  covering  it 
with  his  feudal  fortifications  as  with  a  cloak.  Issoudun  next 
became  the  seat  of  the  transient  authority  of  the  Routiers  and 
Cottereaux,  bands  of  brigands  with  which  Henry  II.  opposed 
his  son  Richard  when  he  rebelled  as  Count  of  Poitou.  The 
history  of  Aquitaine,  not  having  been  written  by  the  Bene- 
dictines, will  now  probably  never  be  written,  as  there  are  no 
more  Benedictines.  Hence  it  is  well  to  throw  every  possible 
light  on  these  archceological  obscurities  whenever  an  oppor- 
tunity offers. 

There  is  still  further  evidence  of  the  ancient  importance  of 
Issoudun  in  the  use  made  of  the  little  Tournemine  river, 
which  has  been  raised  for  a  considerable  distance  on  an  aque- 
duct several  yards  above  the  natural  level  of  the  Theols,  the 
stream  that  encircles  the  town.  This  work  is,  beyond  ques- 
tion, due  to  Roman  engineers.  Finally,  the  quarter  lying  to 
the  north  of  the  castle  is  intersected  by  a  road  known  for 
two  thousand  years  as  the  Rue  de  Rome  ;  and  the  inhabitants 
of  the  suburb,  who  are  certainly  of  a  quite  distinct  type  in  race, 
blood,  and  features,  call  themselves  the  direct  descendants  of 
the  Romans.  They  are  almost  all  vine-dressers,  and  singu- 
larly stern  in  their  manners,  owing,  perhaps,  to  tlieir  origin, 
and  perhaps  also  to  their  triumph  over  the  Cottereaux  and 
Routiers,  whom  they  exterminated  in  the  twelfth  century  on 
the  plain  of  Charost. 

After  the  outbreak  in  1S30,  France  was  too  much  agitated 
to  pay  any  attention  to  the  rebellion  among  the  vine-growers 
of  Issoudun,  which  was  very  serious,  though  the  details  were 
never  published,  and  for  very  good  reasons.  In  the  first 
place,  the  citizens  of  Issoudun  would  not  allow  any  troops  to 
^nter  the  city.  They  chose  to  be  responsible  for  it  themselves, 
after  the  usage  and  traditions  of  the  citizen-class  in  the  mid- 
dle ages.  The  authorities  were  forced  to  succumb  to  a  popu- 
lace supported  by  six  or  seven   thousand  vine-dressers,  who 


108  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

had  burned  all  the  archives  and  the  lax-of&ces,  and  who  went 
from  street  to  street,  dragging  about  an  excise  officer  of  the 
octroi,  saying  at  each  lamp-chain,  "  This  is  the  place  to  hang 
him."  The  unhappy  man  was  delivered  from  these  wretches 
by  the  National  Guard,  who  saved  his  life  by  taking  him  to 
prison  on  the  pretext  of  trying  him.  The  general  of  the 
forces  only  got  in  by  coming  to  terms  with  the  vine-dressers, 
and  it  needed  some  courage  to  walk  through  the  mob  ;  for  as 
soon  as  he  appeared  outside  the  town-hall  a  man  of  the  Roman 
suburb  put  his  pruning  scythe — a  large  curved  knife  at  the 
end  of  a  pole,  used  for  lopping  trees — round  his  neck,  crying 
out,  "No  more  tax-gatherers,  or  we  yield  nothing."  And 
the  laborer  would  have  pruned  off  the  head  of  a  man  whom 
sixteen  years  of  fighting  had  spared,  but  for  the  prompt  inter- 
vention of  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  rebellion,  who  obtained  a 
promise  that  the  Chambers  should  be  asked  to  suppress  the 
"cellar-rats,"  or  excise  men. 

In  the  fourteenth  century  Issoudun  could  still  boast  of  sev- 
enteen thousand  inhabitants,  the  remnant  of  a  population  of 
nearly  double  that  number  in  Rigord's  time.  Charles  VII. 
had  a  residence  there ;  it  still  exists,  and  was  known  as  the 
"Maison  du  Roi  "  so  late  as  the  eighteenth  century.  This 
town,  at  that  time  the  central  mart  of  the  wool-trade,  supplied 
the  greater  part  of  Europe  with  the  raw  material,  besides 
manufacturing  it  on  a  large  scale  into  cloth,  hats,  and  excel- 
lent gloves,  called  Chevreautin.  In  the  time  of  Louis  XIV. 
Issoudun,  the  birthplace  of  Baron  and  of  Bourdaloue,  was 
always  mentioned  as  a  home  of  elegance,  pure  French,  and 
good  society.  Poupart,  the  priest,  in  his  "  History  of  San- 
cerre,"  speaks  of  the  inhabitants  of  Issoudun  as  remarkable 
among  all  the  natives  of  Berry  for  their  acumen  and  mother- 
wit. 

At  the  present  day  this  brilliancy  and  wit  have  totally  dis- 
appeared. Issoudun,  though  its  wide  extent  bears  witness  to 
its  former  importance,  claims  but  twelve  thousand  souls,  in- 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  109 

eluding  the  vine-dressers  of  four  extensive  suburbs — Saint- 
Paterne,  Vilatte,  Rome,  and  Les  Alouettes — little  towns  in 
themselves.  The  inhabitants,  like  those  of  Versailles,  have 
elbow-room  in  the  streets.  Issoudun  still  is  the  centre  of  the 
wool-trade  of  Berry,  a  business  now  in  danger  from  the  im- 
provements which  are  being  generally  introduced  in  the  breed 
of  sheep  which  the  Berrichon  will  not  adopt.  The  vineyards 
of  Issoudun  yield  a  wine  which  is  consumed  in  two  depart-  ' 
ments;  and  which,  if  it  were  only  made  as  wine  is  made  in 
Burgundy  and  Gascony,  would  be  one  of  the  best  vintages 
in  France.  But,  alas  !  "  We  do  as  our  fathers  did  !  "—that  is 
the  law  of  the  land.  So  the  vine-growers  leave  the  stalks  in 
the  liquor  during  fermentation,  which  ruins  the  flavor  of  a 
wine  that  migiu  be  the  source  of  renewed  wealth,  and  an 
opening  for  the  industry  of  the  district.  Thanks  to  the  rough- 
ness communicated  to  the  wine  by  the  wood,  and  which  is 
said  to  diminish  with  age,  it  may  be  kept  for  a  century  ! 
This  reason,  assigned  by  the  vine-grower,  is  important  enough 
to  the  science  of  the  manufacture  to  be  recorded  here ;  Guil- 
laume  le  Breton  has,  in  fact,  celebrated  this  property  in  a 
few  lines  in  liis  "  Philippide." 

Thus  the  decay  of  Issoudun  is  accounted  for  by  its  perverse 
stagnation,  carried  to  imbecility,  as  one  single  fact  will  show. 
When  the  direct  road  was  contemplated  from  Paris  to  Tou- 
louse, it  was  obvious  that  it  should  run  from  Vierzon  to 
Chateauroux,  past  Issoudun.  This  is  shorter  than  the  line 
actually  taken  by  Vatan.  But  the  bigwigs  of  the  town,  and 
the  municipal  council  of  Issoudun — which,  it  is  said,  still  sits 
— petitioned  for  it  passing  through  Vatan  ;  objecting  that  if 
their  town  lay  on  the  high-road,  the  price  of  provisions  would 
rise,  and  they  might  be  obliged  to  pay  thirty  sous  for  a  fowl. 

No  analogous  act  is  recorded  of  any  land  but  the  wildest 
districts  of  Sardinia,  a  country  formerly  so  populous  and  rich, 
and  now  so  deserted.  When  King  Charles  Albert,  with  a 
laudable  intent  to  civilize  the  land,  proposed  to  connect  Sas- 


110  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

sari,  the  second  town  in  the  island,  with  Cagliari,  by  a  fine 
and  magnificent  high-road,  the  only  road  existing  in  this  wild 
savannah,  the  direct  line  was  planned  to  pass  Bonorva,  a  dis- 
trict inhabited  by  a  refractory  race  very  like  our  abject  Arab 
tribes,  and,  in  fact,  descended  from  the  Moors.  When  they 
saw  themselves  within  an  ace  of  being  caught  by  civilization, 
the  savages  of  Bonorva,  without  taking  the  trouble  to  discuss 
the  matter,  signified  their  opposition  to  the  plan.  The  govern- 
ment disregarded  this  announcement.  The  first  engineer 
who  attempted  to  take  a  bee-line  had  a  bullet  in  his  brain, 
and  died  by  his  stake.  No  questions  were  asked  ;  but  the 
road  made  a  bend  that  lengthens  it  by  eight  leagues. 

At  Issoudun  the  increasingly  low  price  of  the  wine,  all 
consumed  on  the  spot,  while  gratifying  the  citizen's  wish  to 
live  cheaply,  is  bringing  about  the  ruin  of  the  grape-growers, 
who  are  more  and  more  oppressed  by  the  cost  of  cultivation 
and  the  excise  ;  in  the  same  way,  ruin  threatens  the  wool 
trade  of  the  district,  in  consequence  of  the  impossibility  of 
improving  the  breed  of  sheep.  The  country  folks  have  a 
rooted  horror  of  every  kind  of  change,  even  of  that  which 
may  serve  their  interests. 

A  traveler  from  Paris  found  a  laborer  in  the  country  who 
was  dining  off  an  enormous  quantity  of  bread,  cheese,  and 
vegetables.  He  proved  to  him  that  by  substituting  a  certain 
proportion  of  meat  he  would  be  nourished  better  and  cheaper, 
he  would  do  more  work,  and  waste  his  capital  of  strength 
more  slowly.  The  man  of  Berry  admitted  the  accuracy  of 
the  calculation.  "But  only  consider  tiie  jaw,  sir,"  said  he. 
"The  jaw?"      "  Why,  yes,  sir  ;   how  people  would  tattle  !  " 

"He  would  have  been  the  talk  of  the  district,"  said  the 
owner  of  the  land  on  which  the  incident  occurred.  "They 
would  think  he  was  as  rich  as  a  townsman.  In  short,  he  is 
afraid  of  public  opinion,  of  being  pointed  at,  of  being  sup- 
posed to  be  ailing  or  ill.  That  is  what  we  all  are  in  this  part 
of  the  world." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  Ill 

Country-town  folk  often  echo  these  last  words  with  a  feeling 
of  covert  pride. 

And  while  ignorance  and  routine  are  inseparable  in  the 
country,  where  the  peasantry  are  left  to  themselves,  Issoudun, 
as  a  town,  has  settled  into  absolute  social  stagnation.  Being 
obliged  to  make  head  against  waning  fortunes  by  sordid  econ- 
omy, each  family  lives  for  itself  alone.  Again,  the  society 
there  is  now  forever  bereft  of  the  contrast  that  gives  distinc- 
tion to  manners.  The  town  is  no  longer  the  scene  of  that 
antagonism  of  two  classes  which  gave  vitality  to  the  Italian 
states  in  the  middle  ages.  Issoudun  has  no  men  of  birth. 
The  Cottereaiix,  the  Rentiers,  the  Jacquerie,  the  religious 
wars,  and  the  Revolution  have  completely  exterminated  the 
nobility.  The  town  is  very  proud  of  this  triumph.  To  keep 
down  the  cost  of  living,  Issoudun  has  persistently  refused  to 
be  made  a  garrison  town  ;  thus  it  has  lost  that  means  of  inter- 
course with  the  times,  besides  losing  the  profit  that  is  derived 
from  the  presence  of  the  military. 

Until  1756  Issoudun  was  one  of  the  gayest  of  garrison 
towns.  A  judicial  drama,  which  was  the  talk  of  France  at 
that  time,  deprived  the  town  of  its  soldiery ;  the  case  of  the 
lieutenant-general  of  the  district  against  the  Marquis  de 
Chapt,  whose  son,  a  dragoon  officer,  was  put  to  death,  justly 
perhaps,  but  traitorously,  for  some  amorous  misdemeanor. 

The  occupation  by  the  44th  half-brigade,  forced  upon  it 
during  the  civil  war,  was  not  such  as  to  reconcile  the  inhabit- 
ants to  the  soldier  tribe. 

Bourges,  of  which  the  population  is  annually  diminishing,  is 
a  victim  to  the  same  social  atrophy.  Vitality  is  failing  in 
these  large  bodies.  The  state  is  no  doubt  to  blame.  It  is  the 
duty  of  a  government  to  detect  such  sores  in  the  body  politic, 
and  to  remedy  them  by  sending  men  of  energy  to  the  affected 
spots  to  change  the  state  of  things.  Alas  !  far  from  this, 
such  fatal  and  funereal  peacefulness  is  a  source  of  satisfaction  ! 
Besides,  how  is  it  possible  to  send,  fresh  chiefs  or  capable 


112  A  BACHELOR'S  ESJ'ABLISHMENT. 

judges  ?  Who  nowadays  would  care  to  be  buried  in  a  district 
where  he  can  earn  no  credit  for  the  good  to  be  done  ?  If  by 
chance  an  ambitious  outsider  is  appointed  to  such  a  place,  he 
is  soon  swamped  by  the  power  of  inertia,  and  tunes  himself 
to  the  pitch  of  the  dreadful  provincial  life.  Issoudun  would 
have  benumbed  Napoleon. 

As  a  result  of  this  state  of  things,  the  district  of  Issoudun, 
in  1822,  was  under  the  administration  of  men  all  natives 
of  Berry.  Government  authority  was  therefore  nil  or  impo- 
tent, excepting  in  those  cases,  of  course  very  rare,  of  which 
the  evident  importance  demands  the  intervention  of  the  law. 
Monsieur  Mouilleron,  the  public  prosecutor,  was  related  to 
everybody,  and  his  deputy  belonged  to  a  family  in  the  town. 
The  president  of  the  criminal  court,  before  he  had  risen  to 
such  dignity,  had  made  himself  famous  by  one  of  those 
speeches  which,  in  the  provinces,  crown  a  man  with  a  fool's 
cap  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  At  the  end  of  a  case  for  the 
prosecution  which  would  entail  capital  punishment,  he  said 
to  the  prisoner :  "  My  poor  Pierre,  the  case  is  clear  :  you  will 
have  your  head  cut  off.  Let  that  be  a  lesson  to  you."  The 
superintendent  of  police,  who  had  held  the  post  ever  since 
the  Restoration,  had  relations  all  over  the  district. 

Finally,  not  only  had  religion  no  influence  whatever,  but 
the  curd  was  not  respected.  The  townsfolk — Liberals,  back- 
biters, and  ignorant — repeated  more  or  less  absurd  stories 
about  the  poor  man's  conduct  to  his  housekeeper.  The  chil- 
dren went  to  his  catechizing  all  the  same,  and  were  admitted 
to  their  first  communion  ;  and  likewise,  there  was  a  school ; 
mass  was  said  and  festivals  were  kept  ;  tlie  taxes  were  paid, 
the  only  thing  Paris  requires  of  the  provinces  ;  and  the  mayor 
passed  resolutions  ;  but  all  these  acts  of  social  life  were  mere 
matters  of  routine.  Thus  the  lethargy  of  official  life  was  in 
admirable  harmony  with  the  moral  and  intellectual  condition 
of  the  place.  The  sequel  of  this  narrative  will  show  the 
results  of  a  state  of  things  less  exceptional   than   might  be 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  113 

supposed.  Many  towns  in  France,  especially  in  the  south,  are 
very  like  Ibsoudun.  And  the  state  to  which  the  triumph  of 
the  middle  class  had  brought  this  town — the  chief  town  of 
its  district  (or  arrondissement) — awaits  all  France,  and  even 
Paris,  if  the  citizen  class  continues  to  be  master  of  the  home 
and  foreign  policy  of  our  country. 

Now  a  word  as  to  the  topography  of  Issoudun.  The  town 
extends  north  and  south  on  a  hillside  that  curves  towards  the 
Chateauroux  road.  At  the  foot  of  the  slope  a  canal  was  con- 
structed at  the  time  when  the  place  was  prosperous,  to  supply 
the  factories,  or  to  flood  the  trenches  below  the  ramparts ;  it 
is  known  as  la  Riviere  fore  ee  (the  borrowed  stream),  its  waters 
being  diverted  from  the  Theols.  The  borrowed  stream  forms 
an  artificial  branch,  returning  to  the  natural  river  below  the 
Roman  suburb  at  a  point  where  it  is  met  by  the  Tournemine 
and  some  other  affluents.  These  little  brooks  of  rushing 
water  irrigate  meadows  of  some  extent,  which  lie  on  all  sides 
below  the  yellow  or  white  hills  closely  dotted  with  black 
specks,  for  such  is  the  aspect  of  the  vineland  of  Issoudun 
during  seven  months  of  the  year.  The  vine-dressers  cover  the 
vines  every  year,  and  leave  notliing  but  a  hideous  stump, 
without  any  prop,  at  the  bottom  of  a  funnel  of  earth.  Thus, 
on  arriving  from  Vierzon,  Vatan,  or  Chateauroiix,  the  eye, 
wearied  by  the  monotonous  plain,  is  agreeably  surprised  by 
the  appearance  of  the  meadowland  of  Issoudun,  the  oasis  of 
this  part  of  the  country,  supplying  vegetables  for  ten  leagues 
round.  Below  the  suburb  of  Rome  stretches  one  vast  market- 
garden  exclusively  devoted  to  kitchen  produce,  and  divided 
into  the  Upper  and  Lower  Baltan. 

A  broad,  long  avenue,  with  sidewalks  planted  with  poplars, 
leads  from  the  town,  across  the  fields,  to  an  ancient  convent 
called  Frapesle,  where  an  English  garden — unique  in  the  dis- 
trict— bears  the  high-sounding  name  of  Tivoli.  Here,  on 
Sundays,  fond  couples  wander  to  breathe  their  confidences. 

Traces  of  the  former  splendor  of  Issoudun  can,  of  course, 


114  A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

be  discerned  by  an  attentive  observer,  and  the  most  con- 
spicuous are  the  divisions  of  the  town.  The  castle,  which  of 
old  was  a  town  of  itself,  with  its  walls  and  moats,  constitutes 
a  distinct  quarter  even  now,  entered  only  through  the  old 
gates,  or  quitted  by  three  bridges  over  the  arms  of  the  two 
rivers  ;  this  alone  has  the  aspect  of  an  old  town.  The  walls 
still  show  their  formidable  masonry,  here  and  there  crowned 
with  houses.  Above  the  castle  rises  the  tower  which  was  the 
citadel.  The  conqueror  of  the  town  lying  round  these  two 
fortified  strongholds  had  still  to  take  both  the  tower  and  the 
castle.  Nor  did  the  mastery  of  the  castle  secure  that  of  the 
tower.  The  suburb  of  Saint-Paterne  beyond  the  tower, 
shaped  like  a  palette,  and  encroaching  on  the  fields,  is  so 
large  that  it  must  in  early  ages  have  been  the  original  town- 
ship. Since  the  middle  ages  Issoudun,  like  Paris,  has  climbed 
the  hill  and  spread  outside  the  tower  and  the  castle. 

In  1822  this  notion  still  derived  some  certainty  from  the 
existence  of  the  beautiful  church  of  Saint-Paterne,  only  re- 
cently pulled  down  by  the  son  of  the  man  who  purchased  it 
from  the  nation.  This  building,  one  of  the  prettiest  ex- 
amples of  Romanesque  church  architecture  in  France,  was 
destroyed  without  any  one  having  drawn  the  porch  front, 
which  was  in  perfect  preservation.  The  only  voice  that  was 
raised  to  save  the  building  found  no  echo,  neither  in  the  town 
nor  in  the  department. 

Though  the  castle-precincts  of  Issoudun  have  all  the  char- 
acteristics of  an  old  place,  with  its  narrow  streets  and  ancient 
houses,  the  town,  properly  so  called,  which  was  taken  and 
burnt  again  and  again  at  different  periods,  and  especially  dur- 
ing the  Fronde,  when  it  was  burnt  to  the  ground,  has  now  a 
modern  aspect.  Broad  streets,  as  compared  with  the  otlier 
quarters,  and  well-built  houses  form  a  contrast  with  the 
ancient  castle,  striking  enough  to  have  earned  Issoudun,  in 
some  geographies,  the  epithet  of  "  pretty." 

In   a   town  thus  constituted,  devoid   even  of  commercial 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  115 

activity,  of  taste  for  the  arts,  of  scientific  interest,  where 
every  one  sits  at  home,  it  could  not  but  happen — and  it  did 
in  fact  happen — that  at  the  time  of  the  Restoration,  in  1816, 
when  the  war  was  over,  many  of  the  young  men  of  the  place 
had  no  career  before  them,  and  did  not  know  what  to  do 
with  themselves  pending  their  marriage,  or  their  coming  into 
their  parents'  money.  Bored  to  death  at  home,  these  young 
people  found  no  means  of  diversion  in  the  town  ;  and  since, 
as  the  proverb  has  it,  "  young  men  must  sow  their  wild  oats," 
they  performed  the  operation  at  the  expense  of  the  town 
itself.  It  was  difficult  to  do  much  by  broad  daylight ;  they 
would  have  been  recognized,  and,  the  cup  of  their  misde- 
meanors once  full,  they  would  at  their  first  serious  offense 
have  found  themselves  in  the  hands  of  the  police ;  so  they 
very  judiciously  preferred  to  play  their  mischievous  pranks  at 
night.  And  thus,  among  these  old  ruins  left  by  so  many 
departed  phases  of  civilization,  a  vestige  of  the  farcical  spirit 
that  characterized  the  manners  of  the  past  flashed  like  a  dying 
flame.  These  young  men  took  their  pleasure  as  Charles  IX. 
and  his  courtiers,  or  Henry  V.  and  his  companions,  were 
wont  to  take  theirs,  in  a  form  of  amusement  common  of  old 
in  many  provincial  towns. 

Having  become  confederates  by  their  need  of  mutual  help 
and  defense,  and  the  desire  to  invent  practical  jokes,  the 
friction  of  wits  developed  among  them  a  pitch  of  mischiev- 
ousness  which  is  natural  to  the  young,  and  may  be  noticed 
even  in  animals.  Their  confederacy  gave  them  also  the  little 
enjoyment  that  comes  of  the  mystery  of  a  standing  conspi- 
racy. They  called  themselves  "The  Knights  of  Idlesse." 
All  through  the  day  these  young  monkeys  were  little  saints; 
they  aff"ected  excessive  quietude  ;  besides,  they  slept  late  in 
the  mornings  after  nights  when  they  had  carried  out  some 
cruel  trick.  The  Knights  of  Idlesse  began  by  common  prac- 
tical jokes,  such  as  unhooking  and  changing  shop-signs, 
ringing  at  doors,  hurling  a  cask  left  outside  a  door  into  a 


116  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

neighbor's  cellar  with  a  prodigious  clatter,  and  waking  the 
folks  by  a  noise  like  the  explosion  of  a  mine.  At  Issoudun,  as 
in  many  places,  the  way  into  the  cellars  is  through  a  trapdoor 
close  to  the  entrance  from  the  street,  closed  by  a  huge  lid 
with  hinges,  and  fastened  with  a  heavy  padlock.  These  bad 
boys,  at  the  end  of  1816,  had  not  gotten  beyond  the  practical 
jokes  played  everywhere  by  young  men  and  lads.  But  in 
January,  1S17,  the  Order  of  Idlessc  had  a  grand  master,  and 
distinguished  itself  by  certain  pranks  which  until  1823  were 
the  terror  of  Issoudun,  or,  at  any  rate,  kept  the  citizens  and 
craftsmen  in  perpetual  alarms. 

This  leader  was  one  Maxence  Gilet,  called  Max  for  short ; 
and  his  antecedents,  no  less  than  his  strength  and  youth, 
destined  him  for  the  part.  Maxence  Gilet  was  supposed  to 
be  the  natural  son  of  Lousteau,  Madame  Hochon's  brother, 
the  sub-delegate  whose  gallantries  had  left  many  memorials, 
and  who  had  incurred,  as  we  know.  Doctor  Rouget's  hatred 
apropos  to  Agathe's  birth.  But  before  this  quarrel  the  friend- 
ship between  the  two  men  had  been  so  close  that,  to  use  a 
phrase  of  the  country  and  period,  where  one  went  the  other 
would  go.  So  it  was  always  said  that  Max  might  just  as  well 
be  the  doctor's  son  as  Lousteau's  ;  but  he  belonged  to  neither 
of  them,  for  his  father  was  a  handsome  young  dragoon  officer 
in  garrison  at  Bourges.  However,  as  a  consequence  of  their 
intimacy,  happily  for  the  boy,  the  two  men  were  always  dis- 
puting for  the  paternity. 

Max's  mother,  the  wife  of  a  clog-maker  in  the  Roman 
suburb,  was  for  her  soul's  destruction  amazingly  beautiful, 
with  the  beauty  of  a  true  Trasleverina,  the  only  thing  she 
had  to  bequeath  to  her  boy.  Madame  Gilet,  before  Max's 
birth  in  1788,  had  long  pined  for  this  boon  from  heaven, 
which  was  maliciously  ascribed  to  the  gallantries  of  the  two 
men — no  doubt  to  set  them  at  loggerheads.  Gilet,  a  hard- 
ened old  sot,  winked  at  his  wife's  misconduct  by  such 
collusion  and  tolerance  as  arc  not  exceptional  in  the  lowest 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  117 

class.  The  woman  herself,  hoping  to  secure  their  protection 
for  the  child,  took  good  care  not  to  enlighten  the  supposed 
fathers.  In  Paris  she  would  have  been  a  millionaire ;  at  Is- 
soudun  she  sometimes  was  well  off,  sometimes  wretchedly- 
poor,  and  at  last  scorned  by  all. 

Madame  Hochon,  Monsieur  Lousteau's  sister,  paid  about 
ten  crowns  a  year  towards  Max's  schooling.  This  liberality, 
which  Madame  Hochon  could  not  allow  herself  in  consequence 
of  her  husband's  avarice,  was  naturally  attributed  to  her 
brother,  then  living  at  Sancerre.  When  Doctor  Rouget,  whose 
son  was  not  a  success,  observed  how  handsome  Max  was,  he 
paid  the  school  expenses  of  the  "  young  rascal,"  as  he  called 
him,  till  1805.  As  Lousteau  had  died  in  1800,  and  the  doctor 
seemed  to  gratify  a  feeling  of  pride  by  paying  the  boy's 
schooling  for  five  years,  the  question  of  paternity  remained 
unsettled. 

Indeed,  Maxence  Gilet,  the  cause  of  many  jests,  was  soon 
forgotten.  And  this  is  his  story.  In  1S06,  a  year  after  Doctor 
Rouget's  death,  the  boy,  who  seemed  born  to  a  life  of  adven- 
ture, and  who  was  indeed  gifted  with  extraordinary  strength 
and  agility,  had  committed  a  number  of  more  or  less  rash 
acts  of  mischief.  He  and  Monsieur  Hochon's  grandsons  were 
already  in  league  to  drive  the  tradesfolk  to  frenzy ;  he  gath- 
ered all  the  neighbors'  fruit  before  the  ovmcrs,  making  noth- 
ing of  scaling  a  wall.  This  imp  had  no  match  in  athletic 
exercises ;  he  played  prisoner's  base  to  perfection  ;  he  could 
have  coursed  and  caught  a  hare.  He  had  an  eye  worthy  of 
j  Leather  Stocking,  and  had  a  passion  for  sport.  Instead  of 
doing  his  lessons,  he  passed  all  his  time  in  shooting  at  a  mark. 
He  spent  all  the  money  be  could  extract  from  the  old  doctor 
in  buying  powder  and  shot  for  a  worn-out  pistol  given  to  him 
by  Gilet  the  clog-maker.  Now,  in  the  autumn  of  1806,  Max, 
by  this  time  seventeen,  committed  an  involuntary  murder 
one  evening  at  nightfall  by  coming  upon  a  young  woman  in 
her  garden,  where  he  was  stealing  fruit,  and  frightening  her 


118  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

into  a  miscarriage.  Being  threatened  by  the  clog-maker  with 
the  guillotine — the  old  man,  no  doubt,  wanted  to  be  rid  of 
him — Max  ran  off,  and  never  stopped  till  he  reached  Bourges, 
joined  a  regiment  on  the  march  to  Spain,  and  there  enlisted. 
No  further  notice  was  taken  of  the  young  woman's  death. 

A  lad  of  Max's  disposition  was  certain  to  distinguish  him- 
self; and  he  did  so,  with  such  effect  that,  after  three  cam- 
paigns, he  returned  as  a  captain,  for  the  little  learning  he  had 
picked  up  had  served  him  well.  In  1S09,  in  Portugal,  he 
was  left  for  dead  on  an  English  battery  which  his  company 
had  taken,  but  could  not  hold.  Max,  a  prisoner,  was  sent  by 
the  English  to  the  Spanish  hulks  at  Cabrera,  the  worst  of  all. 

An  application  was  indeed  made  on  his  behalf  to  the  Em- 
peror for  the  cross  of  the  Legion  of  Honor  and  the  rank  of 
major,  but  Napoleon  was  just  then  in  Austria ;  he  kept  all  his 
favors  for  the  dashing  actions  that  were  done  under  his  own 
eye;  he  had  no  liking  for  men  who  were  taken  prisoners,  and 
was  not  best  pleased  with  the  state  of  affairs  in  Portugal. 

Max  was  left  on  the  hulks  from  iSio  to  1814.  In  the 
course  of  those  four  years  he  was  utterly  demoralized  ;  for  the 
hulks  were  the  galleys  minus  the  crime  and  disgrace.  In  the 
first  place,  to  secure  his  own  freedom  of  action  and  defend 
himself  against  the  corruption  that  was  rampant  in  those  foul 
prisons,  unworthy  of  any  civilized  nation,  the  handsome 
young  captain  killed  in  duels — for  duels  were  fought  on  a 
space  six  yards  square — seven  bullies  and  tyrants  of  whom  he 
rid  his  ship,  to  the  great  joy  of  their  victims.  Max  reigned 
in  the  hulks,  thanks  to  the  prodigious  skill  he  acquired  in 
handling  his  weapons,  to  his  personal  strength  and  cleverness. 
But  he,  in  his  turn,  committed  some  arbitrary  acts,  and  had 
adherents  who  took  his  part  and  became  his  flatterers.  In 
this  school  of  misery,  where  embittered  nature  dreamed  only 
of  revenge,  and  where  the  sophistries  hatched  in  these  seeth- 
ing brains  found  a  warrant  for  every  evil  purpose,  Max  became 
utterly  depraved.     He  listened   to  the  counsel  of  those  who 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  119 

aimed  at  fortune  at  any  price,  and  did  not  shrink  from  crim- 
inal deeds  so  long  as  they  could  be  committed  without  proof. 

At  last,  at  the  peace,  he  was  released,  perverted  though 
guiltless,  capable  of  becoming  a  great  politician  in  public  life 
or  a  scoundrel  in  private  life,  as  circumstances  might  direct. 

On  his  return  to  Issoudun  he  heard  of  the  deplorable  end 
of  his  parents.  Like  all  people  who  give  way  to  their  pas- 
sions, and  lead,  as  the  saying  goes,  a  short  life  and  a  merry 
one,  the  Gilets  had  died  in  hospital  in  the  most  dire  poverty. 
Almost  immediately  after  the  news  of  Napoleon's  landing  at 
Cannes  ran  through  France,  Max  thought  he  could  not  do 
better  than  go  to  Paris  and  ask  for  his  cross  and  his  promo- 
tion. The  marshal  who  was  then  at  the  head  of  the  war  office 
remembered  Captain  Gilet's  brave  conduct  in  Portugal;  he 
gave  him  his  commission  with  the  rank  of  major  of  infantry ; 
but  he  could  not  obtain  the  cross  for  him,  "  The  Emperor 
says  you  will  be  sure  to  win  it  in  the  first  fight,"  said  the 
marshal.  And,  in  fact,  the  Emperor  put  down  the  brave  cap- 
tain's name  for  that  honor  after  the  battle  of  Fleurus,  where 
Gilet  distinguished  himself.  After  the  battle  of  Waterloo, 
Gilet  retired  with  the  army  on  the  Loire.  When  the  revision 
took  place,  Marshal  Feltre  would  grant  him  neither  his  pro- 
motion nor  liis  cross. 

Napoleon's  soldier  came  home  to  Issoudun  in  a  state  of 
exasperation  that  may  easily  be  imagined ;  he  refused  to  serve 
at  all  without  his  cross  and  the  rank  of  major.  The  authori- 
ties thought  this  a  monstrous  demand  from  a  young  man  of 
five-and-twenty,  who  at  that  rate  might  be  a  colonel  at  thirty. 
So  Max  sent  in  his  papers.  Thus  the  major — for  the  Bona- 
partists  recognized  among  themselves  the  promotions  con- 
ferred in  1815 — lost  the  pittance  designated  as  half-pay  that 
was  doled  out  to  the  officers  of  the  Army  of  the  Loire.  At 
the  sight  of  this  handsome  young  fellow,  whose  whole  posses- 
sions were  twenty  napoleons,  Issoudun  bestirred  itself  in  his 
favor,  and   the  mayor  gave  him  a  place  in  his  office  with  a 


120  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

salary  of  six  hundred  francs.  Max,  after  holding  this  appoint- 
ment for  about  six  months,  retired  of  his  own  accord,  and 
was  succeeded  by  a  captain  named  Carpentier,  who,  like  him- 
self, had  remained  faithful  to  Napoleon. 

Gilet,  already  grand  master  of  the  Knights  of  Idlesse,  had 
entered  on  a  life  which  lost  him  the  regard  of  the  best  families 
in  the  town  ;  not  that  they  said  anything  to  him,  for  he  was 
violent,  and  dreaded  by  everybody,  even  by  those  officers  of 
the  old  army  who  had,  like  him,  refused  to  serve,  and  had 
come  home  to  plant  cabbages  in  Berry. 

The  small  affection  felt  for  the  Bourbons  by  the  good  folks 
of  Issoudun  is  not  surprising  after  what  has  here  been  said. 
And,  in  proportion  to  its  size,  there  were  more  Bonapartists 
in  this  little  town  than  anywhere  else.  As  it  is  well  known, 
almost  all  the  Bonapartists  became  Liberals.  At  Issoudun,  or 
in  the  neighborhood,  there  were  perhaps  a  dozen  officers  in 
the  same  position  as  Maxence,  who  liked  him  so  well  as  to 
regard  him  as  their  chief;  with  the  sole  exception  of  Car- 
pentier, his  successor,  and  of  a  certain  Monsieur  Mignonnet, 
ex-captain  of  the  artillery  of  tlie  Guard.  Carpentier,  a  cavalry 
officer,  who  had  risen  from  the  ranks,  very  soon  married,  thus 
allying  himself  with  one  of  the  most  important  families  in  the 
town — that  of  Borniche-Herau.  Mignonnet,  a  student  of  the 
Ecole  Polytechnique,  had  belonged  to  a  corps  which  fancies 
itself  superior  to  all  others.  There  were  in  the  imperial  armies 
two  tones  of  feeling  among  the  military.  A  strong  party  had 
an  immense  contempt  for  the  mere  citizen,  the  pequin,  the 
plain-clothes  man,  such  as  the  noble  felt  for  the  villein,  the 
conquering  race  for  tlie  conquered.  These  were  not  over- 
strict  in  observing  the  code  of  honor  in  their  intercourse  with 
civilians,  and  a  man  who  had  cut  down  a  bourgeois  was  not 
too  severely  blamed.  The  others,  and  among  them  the  artil- 
lery, as  a  result  perhaps  of  its  republicanism,  did  not  adopt 
this  view,  which  tended  indeed  to  divide  France  into  two 
parts — Military  France  and  Civilian  France.     Hence,  though 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  121 

Major  Potel  and  Captain  Renard,  two  officers  living  in  the 
Roman  quarter,  whose  views  as  to  civilians  never  varied,  were 
Maxence  Gilet's  friends  through  thick  and  thin,  Major  Mig- 
nonnet  and  Captain  Carpentier  sided  with  the  townsfolk  in 
regarding  Max's  conduct  as  unworthy  of  an  "  officer  and  a 
gentleman." 

Major  Mignonnet,  a  little  dry  man  of  much  dignity,  gave 
his  mind  to  the  problems  which  the  steam-engine  seemed 
likely  to  solve,  and  lived  very  simply  in  the  quiet  society  of 
Monsieur  and  Madame  Carpentier.  His  gentle  manners  and 
scientific  pursuits  gained  him  the  consideration  of  the  whole 
town.  And  it  was  currently  said  that  these  two  gentlemen 
were  a  very  different  sort  from  Major  Potel  and  Captain 
Renard,  Maxence,  and  the  rest  who  frequented  the  Cafe 
Militaire  and  kept  up  the  rough  manners  and  traditions  of 
the  Empire. 

Thus,  at  the  time  when  Madame  Bridau  revisited  Issoudun, 
Max  was  an  outlaw  from  the  citizen  world.  The  young 
fellow  indeed  so  far  sentenced  himself  that  he  never  intruded 
himself  on  the  circle  known  as  the  club,  and  did  not  complain 
of  the  reprobation  of  which  he  was  the  object,  though  he  was 
the  youngest,  and  smartest,  and  best-dressed  man  in  Issoudun, 
spent  a  good  deal  of  money,  and  even  had  a  horse — a  crea- 
ture as  strange  at  Issoudun  as  Lord  Byron's  was  at  Venice. 

It  will  presently  be  seen  how  it  had  come  to  pass  that 
Maxence,  poor  and  unassisted,  had  been  enabled  to  become 
the  man  of  fashion  of  Issoudun  ;  for  these  disgracaful  means, 
which  earned  him  the  contempt  of  timid  or  pious  persons, 
were  linked  with  the  interests  which  had  brought  Agathe  and 
Joseph  from  Paris.  To  judge  from  his  braggart  bearing  and 
the  expression  of  his  countenance,  Max  cared  little  enough 
for  public  opinion  ;  he  no  doubt  counted  on  being  revenged 
some  day,  and  reigning  over  those  who  now  scorned  him. 

Besides,  though  the  better  class  might  misprize  him,  the 
admiration  his  character  commanded  among  the  populace  was 


122  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

a  counterpoise  to  that  opinion  ;  his  courage,  his  fine  appear- 
ance, his  decisiveness,  delighted  the  mob  ;  but,  indeed,  his 
depravity  was  not  known  to  them,  nor  was  its  extent  suspected 
even  by  the  townsfolk. 

Max,  at  Issoudun,  played  a  part  very  similar  to  that  of  the 
armorer  in  "The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth  ;  "  he  was  the  cham- 
pion of  Bonaparte  and  the  Opposition.  He  was  looked  to 
on  great  occasions  as  the  good  men  of  Perth  looked  to  Smith. 
A  fray  gave  the  hero  and  the  victim  of  the  hundred  days  his 
opportunity. 

In  1819  a  battalion  commanded  by  some  Royalist  officers, 
lads  just  out  of  Maison  Rouge,  marched  through  Issoudun  on 
their  way  to  relieve  the  garrison  at  Bourges.  Not  knowing 
what  to  do  in  such  a  constitutional  town,  the  officers  went  to 
pass  the  time  at  the  Cafe  Militaire.  There  is  such  a  resort 
for  soldiers  in  every  provincial  town.  That  of  Issoudun, 
standing  in  a  corner  of  the  parade-ground  under  the  walls, 
and  kept  by  the  widow  of  an  officer,  naturally  served  as  a 
sort  of  club  for  the  Bonapartists  of  the  place,  half-pay  officers 
and  others  who  were  of  Max's  way  of  thinking,  and  who 
were  allowed,  by  the  feeling  of  the  town,  to  display  their 
adoration  of  the  Emperor.  After  1816  a  banquet  was  held 
at  Issoudun  every  year  to  celebrate  the  anniversary  of  Napo- 
leon's coronation. 

The  first  three  Royalists  who  dropped  in  asked  for  news- 
papers, naming,  among  others,  the  Quotidieittie  and  the  Dra- 
peaii  blanc.  But  the  opinions  of  the  town,  and  especially  of 
the  Cafe  Militaire,  did  not  encourage  Royalist  newspapers. 
The  cafe  could  only  produce  the  Connncrce,  the  name  as- 
sumed for  a  few  years  by  the  Constitufionnel  when  that  paper 
was  suppressed  by  law.  But  since,  in  the  first  number  pub- 
lished under  that  title,  its  leader  opened  with  these  words, 
"The  Cojfimercc  is  essentially  constitutional  in  its  views,"  it 
was  still  familiarly  called  the  Consiitutioniiel.  Every  sub- 
scriber at  once  saw  the  joke  which  bid  them  pay  no  attention 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISIIMEXT.  123 

to  the  name  over  the  door  ;  the  wine  would  be  of  the  old  tap. 
The  stout  mistress  perched  at  her  desk  told  the  Royalists 
that  she  had  not  the  papers  they  asked  for. 

"  What  papers  do  you  take  then  ?  "  said  one  of  the  officers, 
a  captain. 

The  waiter,  a  small  youth  in  a  blue  cloth  jacket  and  a 
coarse  linen  apron,  produced  the  Commerce. 

"  Oh  !  so  that  is  your  paper  !      Have  you  no  other  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  waiter,  "  that  is  the  only  one." 

The  captain  tore  the  hostile  sheet  into  fragments,  threw  it 
on  the  floor,  and  spat  upon  it,  saying,  **  Bring  the  dominoes  I  " 

Within  ten  minutes  news  of  the  insult  offered  to  the  Con- 
stitutional opposition  and  liberalism  generally  in  the  person 
of  the  sacrosanct  paper,  which  waged  war  on  the  priesthood 
with  the  courage  and  wit  we  all  know,  was  flying  along  the 
streets  and  flashing  like  light  into  every  house  :  every  one 
was  telling  the  tale.  The  same  sentence  rose  to  every  lip  : 
"  Run  and  tell  Max  !  " 

Max  was  soon  informed.  The  officers  had  not  finished 
their  game  of  dominoes  when  Max,  accompanied  by  Major 
Potel  and  Captain  Renard,  entered  the  cafe  ;  while  a  follow- 
ing of  thirty  young  fellows,  eager  to  see  the  end  of  the 
matter,  remained,  for  the  most  part,  outside  in  groups  on  the 
Parade.     The  cafe  was  soon  full. 

"Waiter,  bring  me  my  paper,"  said  Max  very  quietly. 
Then  a  little  comedy  was  played.  The  stout  woman  said  in 
a  timid  and  conciliatory  tone — 

"  I  have  loaned  it,  captain." 

"  Go  and  fetch  it  !  "  cried  one  of  Max's  companions. 

''Can  you  not  do  without  the  paper?"  said  the  waiter. 
"We  have  it  not." 

The  young  officers  were  laughing  and  stealing  side-glances 
at  the  town  party. 

"It  is  torn  up ! "  exclaimed  a  young  Bonapartist,  looking 
at  the  captain's  feet. 


124  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"Who  has  dared  to  tear  up  the  newspaper?"  asked  Max 
in  a  voice  of  thunder,  his  eyes  flashing,  and  his  arms  crossed 
as  he  rose. 

"  And  we  have  spit  upon  it,  too,"  replied  the  three  Royal- 
ists, rising  and  facing  Max. 

"You  have  insulted  the  whole  town  !  "  said  Max,  turning 
pale. 

"  Well,  what  of  that?"  said  the  youngest  of  the  three. 

With  a  neatness,  a  boldness,  and  a  swiftness  which  the 
young  men  could  not  guard  against,  Max  dealt  two  slaps  to 
the  foremost  man  as  they  stood,  saying — 

"  Do  you  understand  French?" 

They  went  out  to  fight  in  the  Allee  de  Frapesle,  three 
against  three.  Potel  and  Renard  would  not  hear  of  allowing 
Max  to  fight  it  out  alone  with  the  Royalists.  Max  killed  his 
man  ;  Potel  wounded  his  so  severely  that  the  unhappy  lad,  a 
man  of  good  birth,  died  next  day  in  the  hospital,  whither 
they  carried  him.  As  for  the  third,  he  got  off  with  a  sword- 
cut,  and  wounded  Captain  Renard,  his  opponent.  The  bat- 
talion went  on  to  Bourges  that  night.  This  affair,  much 
talked  about  in  the  country,  crowned  Maxence  Gilet  as  a  hero. 

The  Knights  of  Idlesse,  all  young — the  eldest  was  not  five- 
and-twenty — admired  Maxence.  Some  of  them,  far  from 
sharing  the  rigid  prudery  of  their  families  with  regard  to  Max, 
envied  him  greatly,  and  thought  him  a  very  fortunate  man. 
Under  such  a  leader  the  order  did  wonders.  From  the 
month  of  January,  1817,  not  a  week  passed  but  tlie  town  was 
in  a  pother  over  some  fresh  prank.  Max,  as  a  point  of  honor, 
imposed  certain  conditions  on  the  knights ;  by-laws  were 
drawn  up.  These  young  devils  became  as  ])rompt  as  disciples 
of  Amoros,  as  tough  as  kites,  skilled  in  every  kind  of  exer- 
cise, as  strong  and  as  dexterous  as  malefactors.  They  were 
adepts  in  the  business  of  creeping  over  roofs,  scaling  house- 
walls,  jumping  and  walking  without  a  sound,  spreading 
mortar,  and  building  up  doors.     They  had  an   arsenal   of 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  125 

ladders,  ropes,  tools,  and  disguises.  The  Knights  of  Idlesse, 
in  short,  achieved  the  very  ideal  of  ingenious  mischief,  not 
only  in  the  execution,  but  in  the  invention  of  the  tricks  they 
played.  They  were  at  last  inspired  by  that  genius  of  malig- 
nity in  which  Panurge  took  such  delight,  which  provokes 
every  one  to  laugh,  and  makes  the  victim  so  ridiculous  that 
he  dare  not  complain.  The  men,  all  respectably  connected, 
had,  of  course,  means  of  information  in  private  houses  which 
enabled  them  to  obtain  such  intelligence  as  could  serve  them 
in  the  perpetration  of  their  rascality. 

One  very  cold  night  these  demons  incarnate  carried  a  large 
stove  out  into  the  courtyard  of  a  house,  and  stoked  it  so 
effectually,  that  the  fire  lasted  till  morning.  Then  it  was 
rumored  in  the  town  that  Monsieur  So-and-so  (a  noted  miser  !) 
had  been  trying  to  warm  his  yard. 

Sometimes  they  lay  in  ambush  in  the  High  Street,  or  the 
Rue  Basse,  the  two  arteries,  as  it  were,  of  the  town,  into 
which  run  a  great  number  of  smaller  cross-streets.  Squatting, 
each  at  the  corner  of  a  side  street,  under  the  wall,  putting 
their  heads  out  when  every  household  was  in  its  first  sleep, 
they  would  shout  in  a  tone  of  terror  from  one  end  of  the  town 
to  the  other — 

"What  is  the  matter?  Oh,  what  is  the  matter?"  The 
repeated  question  would  rouse  the  citizens,  who  soon  appeared 
in  their  shirts  and  night-caps,  candle  in  hand,  catechizing 
each  other,  and  holding  the  strangest  colloquies  with  the 
most  bewildered  faces  ever  seen. 

There  was  a  poor  bookbinder,  very  old,  who  believed  in 
demons.  Like  most  provincial  artisans,  he  worked  in  a  little 
low  shop.  The  knights,  disguised  as  devils,  invaded  his  shop 
at  night,  put  him  into  his  waste-paper  box,  and  left  him 
shrieking  like  three  men  at  the  stake.  The  poor  man  roused 
all  the  neighbors,  to  whom  he  related  these  apparitions  of 
Lucifer,  and  the  neighbors  could  never  undeceive  him.  The 
binder  very  nearly  went  mad. 


126  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

In  the  depth  of  a  severe  winter  the  confederates  demolished 
the  chimney-pot  of  the  tax-collector,  and  replaced  it  in  the 
course  of  the  night;  it  was  exactly  the  same;  they  made  no 
noise,  and  left  not  the  slightest  trace  of  their  work.  The 
chimney  was,  however,  so  arranged  inside  as  to  fill  the  room 
with  smoke.  The  tax-collector  endured  this  for  two  months 
before  discovering  why  his  chimney,  which  had  always  worked 
properly  and  given  him  perfect  satisfaction,  should  play  such 
tricks  ;  and  he  had  to  reconstruct  it  in  order  to  fully  remedy 
the  difficulty. 

One  day  they  stuffed  trusses  of  straw  sprinkled  with  sulphur 
and  greasy  paper  into  the  chimney  of  an  old  bigot,  a  friend 
of  Madame  Hochon's.  Next  morning,  on  lighting  her  fire, 
the  poor  old  lady,  a  quiet,  gentle  creature,  thought  she  had 
lighted  a  volcano.  The  firemen  came,  the  whole  town  rushed 
in  ;  and  as  there  were  among  the  firemen  some  of  the  Knights 
of  Idlesse,  they  deluged  the  poor  soul's  house,  and  put  her  in 
fear  of  drowning  after  the  fear  of  fire.  She  fell  ill  of  the 
shock. 

When  they  wished  to  keep  any  one  up  all  night,  under 
arms  and  in  mortal  terror,  they  sent  anonymous  letters  warn- 
ing him  of  a  plan  to  rob  him  ;  then  they  crept  one  by  one 
under  his  wall  or  past  his  windows,  whistling  signals  to  each 
other. 

One  of  their  most  successful  hoaxes,  which  amused  the 
town  hugely,  and  is  talked  of  to  this  day,  was  sending  to  all 
the  possible  heirs  of  a  very  miserly  old  woman,  who  was 
expected  to  leave  a  large  fortune,  a  few  lines  announcing  her 
death,  and  inviting  them  to  come  punctually  at  a  certain 
hour,  when  seals  would  be  affixed.  About  eighty  persons 
arrived  from  Vatan,  Saint-Florent,  Vierzon,  and  the  neigh- 
borhood, all  in  deep  mourning,  but  in  very  good  spirits — men 
with  their  wives,  widows  with  their  sons,  children  with  their 
parents,  some  in  gigs,  some  in  basket-carriages,  some  in  old 
tax-carts.     Imagine  the  scenes  between  the  old  lady's  servant 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  127 

and  the  first  comers  !  Then  the  consultations  at  the  lawyers  ! 
It  was  like  a  riot  in  the  town. 

At  last  one  day  the  sous-prefet  began  to  think  this  state  of 
things  intolerable,  all  the  more  so  because  it  was  impossible 
to  ascertain  who  ventured  to  perpetrate  these  pleasantries. 
Suspicion,  indeed,  rested  on  the  guilty  youths;  but  as  the 
National  Guard  was  at  that  time  a  mere  name  at  Issoudun,  as 
there  was  no  garrison,  and  as  the  lieutenant  of  police  had  not 
more  than  eight  gendarmes  at  his  command,  and  kept  no 
patrol,  it  was  impossible  to  obtain  proofs.  The  sous-prefet 
was  at  once  placed  on  "  the  order  of  the  night,"  to  be  treated 
as  obnoxious.  This  functionary  was  in  the  habit  of  eating 
two  new-laid  eggs  for  breakfast.  He  kept  fowls  in  his  yard, 
and  he  crowned  his  mania  for  eating  new-laid  eggs  by  insist- 
ing on  cooking  them  himself.  Neither  his  wife,  nor  the  maid, 
nor  any  one,  according  to  him,  could  cook  an  &gg  as  it  ought 
to  be  done  ;  he  watched  the  clock,  and  boasted  that  in  this 
particular  he  could  beat  all  the  world.  For  two  years  he  had 
boiled  his  own  eggs  with  a  success  that  was  the  subject  of 
much  jesting.  Then,  every  night  for  a  month,  the  eggs  were 
taken  from  his  hens  and  hard-boiled  eggs  put  in  their  place. 
The  poor  man  was  at  his  wits'  end,  and  lost  his  reputation  as 
the  egg-boiling  sous-prefet.  Finally,  he  had  something  else 
for  breakfast. 

Still,  he  never  suspected  the  Knights  of  Idlesse  ;  the  trick 
was  too  neatly  done.  Max  hit  on  a  plan  for  greasing  his 
stove-pipes  every  night  with  oil  saturated  with  such  vile  odors 
that  it  was  impossible  to  live  in  the  house.  Nor  was  this  all ; 
one  morning  his  wife,  wishing  to  attend  mass,  found  her 
shawl  stuck  together  inside  by  some  glue  so  tenacious  that  she 
was  obliged  to  go  without  it.  The  official  begged  to  be  trans- 
ferred. His  cowardice  and  submission  established  beyond 
question  the  occult  and  farcical  sway  of  the  Knights  of  Idlesse. 

Between  the  Rue  des  Minimes  and  the  Place  Misere  there 
existed  at  that  time  a  part  of  the  town  enclosed  between  the 


328  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"borrowed  stream  "  at  the  bottom  and  the  rampart  above — 
the  part  extending  from  the  Parade  to  the  crockery  market. 
This  sort  of  misshapen  square  was  occupied  by  wretched-look- 
ing houses,  closely  packed  and  divided  by  alleys  so  narrow 
that  two  persons  could  not  walk  abreast.  This  part  of  the 
town,  a  sort  of  court  of  miracles,  was  inhabited  by  poor  peo- 
ple, or  such  as  carried  on  the  least  profitable  trades,  lodging 
in  the  hovels  and  wretched  tenements  expressively  designated 
as  maisofi  borgnes — purblind  houses.  It  was,  no  doubt,  at  all 
times  a  spot  accursed,  the  den  of  evil  livers,  for  one  of  these 
lanes  is  called  Rue  du  Bourreau,  or  Hangman's  Alley.  It  is 
certain  that  the  town  executioner  had  here  his  house,  with  its 
red  door,  for  more  than  five  centuries.  The  executioner's 
man  lives  there  still,  if  public  report  may  be  believed,  for  the 
townspeople  never  see  him.  None  but  the  vine-dressers  keep 
up  any  communication  with  this  mysterious  personage,  who 
inherits  from  his  predecessors  the  gift  of  healing  fractures  and 
wounds.  The  women  of  the  town  held  high  festival  here  of 
old,  when  the  place  gave  itself  the  airs  of  a  capital.  Here 
dwelt  the  dealers  in  second-hand  articles,  which  never  seem 
to  find  a  buyer  ;  old-clothes  vendors,  with  their  malodorous 
display;  in  short,  all  the  mongrel  population  that  herds  in 
some  such  corner  of  almost  every  town,  under  the  dominion 
of  one  or  two  Jews. 

At  the  corner  of  one  of  these  dark  passages,  in  the  least 
dead-alive  part  of  the  suburb,  there  was,  from  r8i5  till  1823, 
and  perhaps  even  later,  a  beer-shop  kept  by  a  woman  known 
as  Mother  Cognette.  The  beer-shop  occupied  a  house  not  ill 
built  of  courses  of  white  stone  filled  in  with  rubble  and  mor- 
tar, and  consisting  of  one  story  and  an  attic.  Over  the  door 
shone  an  immense  branch  of  a  fir-tree  gleaming  like  Florentine 
bronze.  As  if  this  "bush  "  were  not  sufficiently  explicit,  the 
eye  was  caught  by  a  blue  board,  fastened  to  the  architrave,  on 
which  the  words  "Good  Marcli  beer"  were  legible  above  a 
picture  representing  a  soldier  offering  to  a  very  lightly  draped 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  129 

woman  a  jet  of  foam  spouting  from  a  jug  into  the  glass  she 
holds,  and  forming  a  curve  like  the  arch  of  a  bridge,  the 
whole  so  gorgeously  colored  as  to  make  Delacroix  faint. 

The  ground-floor  consisted  of  a  large  front  room,  serving 
both  as  kitchen  and  dining-room  ;  the  provisions  needed  for 
carrying  on  the  business  hung  to  hooks  from  tiie  rafters.  Be- 
hind this  room  a  ladder-stair  went  up  to  the  second  floor;  but, 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs,  was  a  door  opening  into  a  small 
narrow  room,  lighted  from  one  of  those  provincial  back-yards 
which  are  more  like  a  chimney,  so  narrow,  dark,  and  high 
are  they.  This  little  room,  screened  by  a  lean-to,  and  hidden 
from  all  eyes  by  the  surrounding  walls,  was  the  hall  where  the 
Bad  Boys  of  Issoudun  held  their  full  court.  Old  Cognet 
ostensibly  entertained  the  country  people  there  on  market 
days;  in  reality,  he  played  host  to  the  Knights  of  Idlesse. 

This  old  Cognet,  formerly  a  groom  in  some  rich  house,  had 
married  La  Cognette,  originally  a  cook  in  a  good  family. 
The  suburb  of  Rome  still  uses  a  feminine  form  of  the  hus- 
band's name  for  the  wife,  in  the  Latin  fashion,  as  in  Italy  and 
Poland.  By  combining  their  savings,  Cognet  and  his  wife 
had  been  able  to  buy  this  house  and  set  up  as  tavern-keepers. 
La  Cognette,  a  woman  of  about  forty,  tall  and  buxom,  with 
a  turn-up  nose,  an  olive  skin,  hair  as  black  as  jet,  brown  eyes, 
round  and  bright,  and  an  intelligent,  merry  face,  had  been 
chosen  by  Maxence  Gilet  to  be  the  Leonarde  of  the  order  for 
the  sake  of  her  good-humor  and  her  talents  as  a  cook.  Cog- 
net himself  was  about  fifty-six,  thick-set,  submissive  to  his  wife, 
and,  to  quote  the  joke  she  constantly  repeated,  he  could  not 
help  seeing  straight,  for  he  was  blind  of  one  eye. 

For  seven  years,  from  1816  to  1823,  neither  husband  nor 
wife  ever  let  out  a  word  as  to  what  was  done  or  plotted  every 
night  on  their  premises,  and  they  were  always  very  much 
attached  to  all  the  knights.  Their  devotion  was  indeed  per- 
fect, but  it  may  seem  less  admirable  when  we  consider  that 
their  interest  was  a  guarantee  for  their  silence  and  affection, 
9 


130  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

At  whatever  hour  of  the  night  the  members  of  the  order 
came  to  La  Cognette's,  if  they  knocked  in  a  particular  way, 
Father  Cognet,  recognizing  the  signal,  rose,  lighted  the  fire 
and  the  candles,  opened  the  door,  and  went  to  the  cellar  for 
wine  laid  in  expressly  for  the  order,  while  his  wife  cooked 
them  a  first-rate  supper,  either  before  or  after  the  exploits 
planned  the  night  before,  or  during  the  day. 

While  Madame  Bridau  was  on  her  way  from  Orleans  to 
Issoudun,  the  Knights  of  Idlesse  were  preparing  one  of  their 
most  famous  tricks.  An  old  Spaniard,  a  prisoner  of  war, 
who,  at  the  peace,  had  remained  in  France,  where  he  carried 
on  a  small  trade  in  seeds,  had  come  to  market  early,  and  had 
left  his  empty  cart  at  the  foot  of  the  tower.  Maxence  was 
the  first  to  arrive  at  the  meeting-place  fixed  for  the  evening 
under  the  tower,  and  was  presently  asked  in  a  low  voice, 
"  What  is  doing  to-night?  " 

"Old  Fario's  cart  is  out  there,"  replied  he.  "I  almost 
broke  my  nose  against  it.  Let  us  get  it  up  the  knoll  to  the 
foot  of  the  tower,  and  after  that  we  will  see." 

When  Richard  built  the  tower  of  Issoudun,  he  founded  it, 
as  has  been  said,  on  the  remains  of  a  basilica  which  occupied 
the  site  of  the  Roman  temple  and  the  Celtic  Dun.  These  ruins, 
each  representing  a  long  series  of  centuries,  formed  a  large 
mound,  full  of  the  monuments  of  three  ages.  Thus  Richard 
Coeur  de  Lion's  tower  stands  on  the  top  of  a  cone  sloping 
equally  steep  on  all  sides,  and  to  be  ascended  only  by  zig- 
zag paths.  To  represent  its  position  in  a  few  words,  the  tower 
may  be  compared  to  the  obelisk  of  Luxor  on  its  base.  The 
base  of  the  tower  of  Issoudun,  concealing  so  many  archseologi- 
cal  treasures  as  yet  unknown,  is  above  eighty  feet  high  on 
the  side  next  the  town.  In  an  hour  the  cart  had  been  taken 
to  pieces  and  hoisted  bit  by  bit  to  the  top  of  the  hill  at  the 
foot  of  the  tower,  by  means  of  something  like  that  of  the 
soldiers  who  carried   the  guns  up  the  pass  of  Saint-Bernani. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  131 

The  cart  was  put  together  again,  and  all  traces  of  the  opera- 
tions so  carefully  effaced  that  it  would  seem  to  have  been 
carried  there  by  the  devil,  or  by  a  stroke  of  a  fairy's  wand. 
After  this  great  achievement,  the  knights,  being  hungry  and 
thirsty,  made  their  way  to  La  Cognette's,  and  were  soon  seated 
round  the  table  in  the  low  narrow  room,  laughing  by  anticipa- 
tion at  the  face  Fario  would  make  when,  at  about  ten  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  he  should  go  to  look  for  his  cart,  now  so 
loftily  elevated. 

The  knights,  of  course,  did  not  play  these  antics  every 
night.  The  talents  of  Sganarelle,  Mascarille,  and  Scapin 
rolled  into  one  would  not  have  been  able  to  invent  three 
hundred  and  sixty-five  practical  jokes  a  year.  In  the  first 
place,  circumstances  were  not  always  favorable  :  the  moon 
was  too  bright,  or  their  last  prank  had  been  too  annoying  to 
sober  folks,  or  one  or  another  would  refuse  his  cooperation 
when  some  relation  was  the  chosen  victim.  But,  though  the 
rascals  did  not  meet  every  night  at  La  Cognette's,  they  saw 
each  other  every  day,  and  were  companions  in  such  lawful 
pleasures  as  hunting  or  the  vintage  in  autumn,  and  skating  in 
winter. 

Among  this  group  of  a  score  of  youths  who  thus  protested 
against  the  social  somnolence  of  the  town,  some  were  more 
especially  intimate  with  Max  than  the  others,  or  made  him 
their  idol.  A  man  of  this  temper  often  infatuates  those 
younger  than  himself.  Now  Madame  Hochon's  two  grand- 
sons, Frangois  Hochon  and  Baruch  Borniche,  were  his  devo- 
tees. The  two  boys  regarded  Max  as  almost  a  cousin,  accept- 
ing the  views  of  the  neighbors  as  to  his  left-handed  relationship 
to  the  Lousteaus.  Max  was  free  with  his  loans  of  money 
denied  them  by  their  grandfather  Hochon  for  their  amuse- 
ments ;  he  took  them  out  shooting,  and  gave  them  some 
training  ;  in  fact,  his  influence  over  them  was  paramount  to 
that  of  home.  They  both  were  orphans,  and,  though  of  age, 
lived  under  the  guardianship  of  their  grandfather,  in  conse- 


132  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

quence  of  certain  circumstances  to  be  explained  when  the 
great  Monsieur  Hochon  appears  on  the  scene. 

At  this  moment  Francois  and  Baruch — we  will  call  them  by 
their  Christian  names  to  make  the  story  clearer — were  seated, 
one  on  the  right  hand,  and  one  on  the  left  of  Max,  at  the 
middle  of  the  supper-table,  that  was  wretchedly  lighted  by  the 
fuliginous  glimmer  of  four  dips,  eight  to  the  pound.  The 
party,  consisting  of  not  more  than  eleven  of  the  knights,  had 
drunk  a  dozen  to  fifteen  bottles  of  various  wines.  Baruch, 
whose  name  suggests  a  survival  of  Calvinism  at  Issoudun,  said 
to  Max  at  the  moment  when  the  wine  had  set  all  tongues 
wagging— 

"You  are  about  to  be  threatened  at  the  very  centre " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  asked  Max. 

"  Why,  my  grandmother  has  had  a  letter  from  Madame 
Bridau,  her  goddaughter,  announcing  her  arrival  on  a  visit 
with  her  son.  My  grandmother  arranged  two  rooms  yester- 
day for  their  reception." 

"  And  what  is  that  to  me?  "  said  Max,  taking  up  his  glass, 
emptying  it  at  a  gulp,  and  setting  it  down  on  the  table  with  a 
comical  flourish. 

Max  was  now  four-and-thirty.  One  of  the  candles  stood 
near  him,  and  cast  its  light  on  his  martial  countenance,  illu- 
minating his  forehead,  and  showing  off  his  fair  complexion, 
his  flashing  eyes,  and  his  hair  crisply  waved,  and  as  black  as 
jet.  This  hair  stood  up  strongly  and  iiaturally,  curling  back 
from  his  brow  and  temples,  and  clearly  marking  the  outline 
of  growth  which  our  grandfathers  called  the  five  points. 
Notwithstanding  such  a  striking  contrast  of  black  and  white, 
Max  had  a  very  sweet  face,  deriving  its  charm  from  its  shape, 
much  like  that  given  by  Raphael  to  his  Virgins'  faces,  and 
from  a  finely-shaped  mouth,  on  which  a  gentle  smile  was  apt 
to  linger,  a  set  expression  which  Max  had  gradually  adopted. 
The  fine  color  that  flushes  the  faces  of  the  Berrichons  added 
to  his  genial  look,  and  when  he  laughed  outright  he  displayed 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  133 

two-and-thii  ty  teeth  worthy  to  grace  the  mouth  of  a  fine  lady. 
He  was  tall  and  well  proportioned,  neither  stout  nor  thin. 
His  hands,  kept  with  care,  were  white  and  not  unshapely,  but 
his  feet  were  those  of  the  Roman  suburb,  of  a  foot  soldier 
under  the  Empire.  He  would  have  made  a  fine  general  of 
division  ;  he  had  shoulders  that  would  have  been  the  fortune 
of  a  field-marshal,  and  a  breast  broad  enough  to  display  all 
the  orders  of  Europe.  Intelligence  gave  purpose  to  all  his 
movements.  And  then,  attractive  by  nature,  like  almost  all 
children  of  a  passion,  the  noble  blood  of  his  real  father  came 
out  in  him. 

"  But  do  you  not  know.  Max,"  cried  a  youth  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  table,  the  son  of  a  retired  surgeon-major  named 
Goddet,  the  best  doctor  in  the  town,  "  that  Madame 
Hochon's  goddaughter  is  Rouget's  sister?  And  if  she  and 
her  son  the  painter  are  coming  here,  it  is  no  doubt  to  get 
back  her  share  of  the  old  man's  fortune,  and  then  good-by  to 
your  harvest  !  " 

Max  frowned.  Then  with  a  glance  that  went  from  face  to 
face  all  round  the  table,  he  studied  the  effect  on  his  com- 
panions of  this  address,  and  again  he  said,  "What  is  that  to 
me?" 

"  But,"  Francois  began  again,  "  it  seems  to  me  that  if  old 
Rouget  were  to  alter  his  will,  supposing  he  has  made  one  in 
favor  of  La  Rabouilleuse " 

Here  Max  cut  his  faithful  follower  short  with  these  words — 
\  "  When,  on  my  arrival  here,  I  heard  you  mentioned  as  one 
j  of  the  cinq-Hochons  (cinq-cochons  =  five  pigs),  as  the  pun  on 
your  name  has  it — and  has  had  it  these  thirty  years — I  told 
the  man  who  called  you  so  to  shut  up,  my  dear  Francois,  and 
that  so  emphatically,  that  no  one  at  Issoudun  has  ever  re- 
peated that  idiotic  jest,  at  any  rate  not  in  ray  presence  !  And 
this  is  the  return  you  make  :  you  make  use  of  a  name  of  con- 
tempt in  speaking  of  a  woman  you  know  me  to  be  attached 
to." 


134  A  BACHELOR  S  ESTABI.ISIIMES^T. 

Never  had  Max  said  so  much  as  to  his  intimacy  with  the 
woman  of  whom  Francois  had  just  spoken  by  the  nickname 
commonly  given  to  her  in  Issoudun.  As  a  former  prisoner 
on  the  hulks,  Max  had  enough  experience,  and  as  major  in  the 
Grenadier  Guards  he  had  learned  enough  of  honor,  to  under- 
stand the  origin  of  the  contempt  for  him  in  the  town.  He 
had  never  allowed  any  one  whatever  to  say  a  word  to  him 
with  reference  to  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier,  Jean-Jacques 
Rouget's  servant-mistress,  so  vigorously  designated  by  good 
Madame  Hochon  as  a  hussy.  Moreover,  Max  was  well 
known  to  be  too  touchy  to  be  spoken  to  on  the  subject  unless 
he  began  it,  and  he  never  had  begun  it.  In  short,  it  was  too 
dangerous  to  incur  Max's  anger  or  displeasure  for  even  his 
most  intimate  friends  to  banter  him  about  La  Rabouilleuse. 

When  something  was  once  said  of  a  connection  between 
Max  and  this  girl  in  the  presence  of  Major  Potel  and  of 
Captain  Renard,  the  two  officers  with  whom  he  lived  on 
terms  of  equality,  Potel  had  replied — 

"If  he  is  Jean-Jacques  Rouget's  half-brother,  why  should 
he  not  live  with  him  ?  " 

"And  besides,"  added  Renard,  "  the  girl  is  a  morsel  for  a 
king;  supposing  he  loves  her,  where  is  the  harm  !  Does  not 
young  Goddet  pay  court  to  Madame  Fichet  to  make  the 
daughter  his  wife  as  a  reward  for  such  a  pel^ance  ?  " 

After  this  well-merited  lecture,  Fran9ois  could  not  recover 
tlie  thread  of  his  ideas,  and  he  was  yet  more  at  fault  when 
Max  gently  added — 

''Well,  go  on " 

"Certainly  not  !  "  cried  Francois. 

"You  are  angry  for  nothing.  Max,"  said  young  Goddet. 
"Is  it  not  an  understood  thing  that  here,  at  La  Cognette's, 
we  may  all  say  what  we  please?  Should  we  not  all  become 
the  mortal  foes  of  any  one  of  us  who  remembered  outside 
these  walls  anything  that  is  said,  thought,  or  done  here? 
All  the  town  speaks  of  Flore  Brazier  by  the  nickname  of  La 


A  BACflELOR'S  ESTABLISl/ArEXr.  135 

Rabouilleuse ;   if  Francois  let  it  slip  out  by  accident,  is  that  a 
crime  against  the  Order  of  Idlesse  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Max,  "  only  against  our  personal  friendship. 
But  I  thought  better  of  it ;  I  remembered  we  were  in  Idlesse. 
I  told  him  to  go  on." 

There  was  utter  silence.  The  pause  was  so  uncomfortable 
for  all  present  that  Max  exclaimed  :  "I  will  go  on  for  him  " 
(sensation),  **for  all  of  you"  (amazement),  "and  tell  you 
what  you  are  thinking  "  (great  sensation).  "You  think  that 
Flore,  La  Rabouilleuse,  Flore  Brazier,  Daddy  Rouget's  house- 
keeper— for  they  call  him  Fere  Rouget  ! — an  old  bachelor, 
who  will  never  have  any  children  ! — you  think,  I  say,  that 
this  woman  has  supplied  me  with  everything  since  I  came  to 
Issoudun.  If  I  have  three  hundred  francs  a  month  to  toss 
out  of  the  window  ;  if  I  can  treat  you  often  as  I  am  doing  this 
evening,  and  have  money  to  lend  to  you  all,  I  must  get  the 
cash  out  of  Madame  Brazier's  purse?  Well,  then,  by  heaven  ! 
Yes,  and  again  yes.  Yes,  Mademoiselle  Brazier  has  taken 
deadly  aim  at  the  old  man's  fortune." 

"  From  father  to  son  she  will  have  richly  earned  it,"  said 
Goddet  in  his  corner. 

"You  believe,"  Max  went  on,  after  smiling  at  Goddet's 
remark,  "  that  I  have  laid  a  plot  to  marry  Flore  after  the  old 
man's  death,  and  that  then  his  sister,  and  this  son,  of  whom 
I  never  heard  till  this  instant,  will  endanger  my  future  pros- 
pects?" 

"That's  it,"  cried  Frangois. 

"  So  we  all  think  round  this  table,"  said  Baruch. 

"Well,  be  calm,  my  boys,"  replied  Max;  "forewarned  is 
forearmed.  Now,  I  speak  to  the  Knights  of  Idlesse.  If,  to 
be  rid  of  these  Parisians,  I  need  the  support  of  the  order,  will 
you  lend  me  a  hand?  Oh,  within  the  limits  we  have  pre- 
scribed for  our  pranks,"  he  quickly  added,  seeing  a  slight 
hesitancy.  "  Do  you  suppose  I  want  to  murder  or  poison 
them  ?     Thank  God,  I  am  not  a  fool !     And  supposing,  after 


13G  yi  BACHELOR'S  ESTABI.ISHMEXT. 

all,  chat  the  Bridaus  should  win  the  day,  and  Flore  should  get 
no  more  than  she  has,  I  should  be  satisfied  with  that,  do  you 
hear?  I  like  her  well  enough  to  prefer  her  to  Mademoiselle 
Fichet,  if  Mademoiselle  Fichet  would  have  anything  to  say  to 
me!" 

Mademoiselle  Fichet  was  the  richest  heiress  of  Issoudun  ; 
and  the  daughter's  hand  formed  a  large  item  in  young  God- 
det's  passion  for  her  mother. 

Plain  speaking  is  so  precious,  that  the  eleven  knights  rose 
as  one  man. 

"You  are  of  the  right  sort,  Max  !  " 

**  That  is  something  like,  Max.  We  will  be  the  knights  of 
salvation." 

"  Down  with  the  Bridaus  !  " 

''  We  will  bridle  the  Bridaus  !  " 

"After  all,  a  sweetheart  has  been  known  to  have  three 
husbands !  " 

"  Deuce  take  it,  old  Lousteau  was  fond  of  Madame  Rouget, 
and  there  is  less  harm  in  courting  a  housekeeper  free  and 
unfettered  !  " 

"  And  if  old  Rouget  was  Max's  father  more  or  less,  it  is  all 
in  the  family  !  " 

"  Opinions  are  free  !  " 

"  Hurrah  for  Max  !  " 

"  Down  with  cant  !  " 

"Let  us  drink  the  fair  Flore's  health  !  " 

Such  were  the  eleven  answers,  acclamations,  or  toasts  that 
broke  from  the  eleven  Knights  of  Idlesse,  the  outcome,  it 
must  be  owned,  of  their  very  low  standard  of  morality.  We 
see  now  what  Max's  object  had  been  in  establishing  himself  as 
grand  master  of  the  order.  While  inventing  practical  jokes, 
and  making  himself  agreeable  to  the  youth  of  the  principal 
families,  Max  hoped  to  secure  their  suffrages  in  the  day  of 
his  rehabilitation.  He  rose  with  a  grace,  lifted  his  glass  full 
of  Bordeaux,  and  all  awaited  his  next  speech. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  137 

"  For  all  the  ill  I  wish  you,  I  only  hope  you  may  all  get 
wives  to  compare  with  the  fair  Flore  !  As  to  the  incursion 
of  relations,  for  the  present  I  am  not  alarmed ;  and  later,  we 
shall  see  !  " 

"  We  must  not  forget  Fario's  cart  !  " 

**  Oh,  that  is  safe  enough,  by  Jove  ?  "  said  Goddet. 

"  I  will  see  to  the  fitting  conclusion  of  that  huge  joke," 
cried  Max.  "  Be  very  early  at  the  market,  and  come  and  let 
me  know  at  once  when  the  old  fellow  comes  to  look  for  his 
cart." 

The  clocks  were  striking  half-past  three  in  the  morning; 
the  knights  went  away  in  silence  to  find  their  way  home, 
hugging  the  wall,  and  not  making  a  sound,  all  being  shod 
with  list  shoes. 

Max  slowly  walked  up  to  the  Place  Saint- Jean  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  town,  between  the  Porte  Saint-Jean  and  the  Porte 
Villate,  the  rich  citizen's  quarter.  Major  Gilet  had  dissem- 
bled his  fears,  but  this  news  had  hit  him  hard.  Since  his 
stay  above  or  below  decks  he  had  acquired  a  power  of  dissim- 
ulation as  great  and  deep  as  his  depravement.  In  the  first 
place,  and  above  all,  the  forty  thousand  francs  a  year  in  land 
owned  by  Rouget  was  the  whole  of  Gilet's  passion  for  Flore 
Brazier,  of  that  you  may  be  sure  !  It  may  easily  be  seen  from 
his  mode  of  conduct  what  confidence  she  had  led  him  to  feel 
in  her  future  fortune,  as  based  on  the  old  bachelor's  affection. 
At  the  same  time,  the  news  that  the  legitimate  heirs  were  on 
their  way  was  enough  to  shake  Max's  faith  in  Flore's  influ- 
ence. The  savings  of  the  last  seventeen  years  still  stood  in 
Rouget's  name.  Now  if  the  will,  which  Flore  declared  had 
long  since  been  executed  in  her  favor,  should  be  revoked, 
these  savings  at  any  rate  might  be  secured  if  they  were  in- 
vested in  the  name  of  Mademoiselle  Brazier. 

"  In  all  these  seven  years  that  idiot  of  a  girl  has  never 
spoken  a  word  about  nephews  and  a  sister  !  "  said  Max  to 
himself,  as  he  turned  out  the  Rue  Marmouse  into  the  Rue 


138  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

I'Avcnier.  "Seven  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  in  the 
hands  of  ten  or  twelve  different  notaries,  at  Bourges,  Vierzon, 
and  Chateauroux,  cannot  be  drawn  out  or  invested  in  state 
securities  within  a  week  without  its  being  known  in  a  land  of 
*jaw.'  To  begin  witli,  we  must  pack  off  the  relations;  but 
once  quit  of  them,  we  must  make  haste  and  secure  that  for- 
tune.     Well,  I  must  think  it  over." 

Max  was  tired.  He  went  into  Rouget's  house  with  a  latch- 
key, and  crept  noiselessly  to  bed,  saying  to  himself,  "To- 
morrow my  ideas  will  be  clearer." 

It  will  not  be  useless  here  to  explain  whence  the  Sultana 
of  the  Place  Saint-Jean  had  obtained  the  nickname  of  La 
Rabouilleuse,  and  how  she  had  gained  the  command  of  the 
Rouget  establishment. 

As  he  had  advanced  in  years,  the  old  doctor,  father  of 
Jean-Jacques  and  of  Madame  Bridau,  had  become  aware  of 
his  son's  utter  stupidity.  He  then  held  him  very  tight,  trying 
to  force  him  into  habits  which  would  take  the  place  of  wis- 
dom ;  but  by  this  means,  without  knowing  it,  he  was  preparing 
him  to  be  tame  under  the  first  tyrant  tliat  miglit  succeed  in 
getting  the  halter  around  his  neck.  One  day,  as  he  rode 
home  from  his  rounds,  the  wily  and  vicious  old  man  saw  a 
lovely  little  girl  on  the  skirt  of  the  water-meadow  by  the 
avenue  to  Tivoli.  On  hearing  the  horse,  the  child  rose 
up  from  the  bottom  of  one  of  the  channels,  wliich,  seen 
from  the  height  of  Issoudnn,  look  like  silver  ribbons  on  a 
green  dress.  Starting  up  like  a  naiad,  the  girl  displayed  to 
the  doctor  one  of  the  sweetest  Virgin  heads  that  ever  painter 
dreamed  of.  Old  Rouget,  who  knew  the  whole  neighbor- 
hood, did  not  know  this  miracle  of  beauty.  The  child, 
almost  naked,  wore  a  tattered  and  scanty  petticoat  full  of 
holes,  and  made  of  cheap  woolen  stuff,  striped  brown  and 
white.  A  slieet  of  paper,  fastened  down  by  an  osier  withy, 
served  her  for  a  hat.     Under  this  paper,  scrawled  over  with 


'WHERE    DO    YOU    COME    FROM,    LITTLE    ONE?      I     NEVER    SAW 
YOU     BEFORE." 


A  BACHELOR'S  F.STABT rsiIMRNT.  139 

Strokes  and  O's,  fully  justifying  its  name  of  scribbling  paper, 
was  gathered  up  the  most  beautiful  golden  hair  that  any 
daughter  of  Eve  could  desire,  fastened  in  a  twist  with  a  horse's 
currycomb.  Her  pretty  sunburnt  bosom,  scarcely  covered 
by  the  rags  of  a  handkerchief  that  had  once  been  a  bandana, 
showed  its  whiteness  below  the  sunburn.  The  petticoat, 
pulled  through  between  the  legs  and  fastened  by  a  coarse  pin, 
looked  a  great  deal  like  a  swimmer's  bathing  drawers.  Her 
feet  and  legs,  visible  through  the  clear  water,  were  character- 
ized by  a  slenderness  worthy  of  the  sculptors  of  the  middle 
ages.  This  fair  body,  from  exposure  to  the  sun,  had  a  rosy 
hue  which  was  not  ungraceful ;  the  neck  and  bosom  were 
worthy  to  be  covered  by  a  silken  shawl.  Finally,  the  nymph 
had  blue  eyes,  shaded  by  lashes  whose  expression  would  have 
brought  a  painter  or  a  poet  to  his  knees.  The  doctor,  enough 
of  an  anatomist  to  know  a  lovely  figure,  perceived  that  all 
the  arts  would  be  losers  if  this  exquisite  person  were  destroyed 
by  field  labor, 

"Where  do  you  come  from,  little  one?  I  never  saw  you 
before,"  said  the  old  doctor  of  sixty-two. 

The  scene  took  place  in  the  month  of  September,  1799. 

"  I  belong  to  Vatan,"  replied  the  girl. 

On  hearing  a  town  accent,  an  ill-looking  man,  about  two 
hundred  yards  away,  standing  in  the  upper  waters  of  the 
stream,  raised  his  head. 

"Now,  then,  what  are  you  at,  Flore?"  he  called  out. 
"Jabbering  there  instead  of  working;  all  the  basketful  will 
get  off!  " 

"And  what  do  you  come  here  for  from  Vatan?"  asked 
the  doctor,  not  troubling  himself  about  this  interruption. 

"  I  7'abouille  for  my  Uncle  Brazier  there." 

Rabouiller  is  a  local  word  of  Le  Berry,  which  perfectly 
describes  the  process  it  is  meant  to  represent — the  action  of 
stirring  the  waters  of  a  brooklet  by  beating  them  with  a  sort 
of  large  racket  made  of  the  branch  of  a  tree.     The  crayfish, 


140  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

frightened  by  the  commotion,  of  which  they  fail  to  see  the 
purpose,  hastily  escape  up  stream,  and  in  tlieir  agitation  rush 
into  the  nets,  which  the  poacher  has  placed  at  a  proper  dis- 
tance. Flore  Brazier  held  her  racket,  or  rabouilloir,  with  the 
unconscious  grace  of  innocence. 

"  But  has  your  Uncle  got  leave  to  fish  for  crayfish  ?  " 

"Well,  and  aren't  we  under  the  Republic  one  and  indivi- 
sible ?  "  shouted  Uncle  Brazier  from  where  he  stood. 

"  We  are  under  the  Directory,"  said  the  doctor  ;  "  and  I 
know  of  no  law  which  will  allow  a  man  from  Vatan  to  come 
and  fish  within  the  limits  of  the  commune  of  Issoudun." 
Then  he  said  to  Flore,  "  Is  your  mother  living,  child  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  and  my  father  is  in  the  hospital  at  Bourges ;  he 
went  mad  from  a  sunstroke  on  his  head  in  the  fields " 

"  How  much  do  you  earn  ?  " 

"  Five  sous  a  day  all  the  season  for  crayfish — I  goes  to 
Braisne,  ever  so  far,  to  beat  the  waters.  Then  in  harvest- 
time,  I  gleans;  and  in  winter,  I  spins." 

"  You  are  about  twelve,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"Would  you  like  to  come  with  me?  You  shall  be  well 
fed,  nicely  dressed,  have  pretty  shoes " 

"  No,  no.  My  niece  has  got  to  stay  wi'  me.  I  have  her  in 
charge  before  God  and  man,"  said  Uncle  Brazier,  who  had 
come  down  to  his  niece  and  the  doctor.  "  I  am  her  guar- 
dian, I  am." 

The  doctor  preserved  his  gravity,  suppressing  a  smile, 
which  would  certainly  have  been  too  much  for  any  one  else 
at  the  siglit  of  Uncle  Brazier.  Tliis  "  guardian  "  had  on  a 
peasant's  broad  hat,  ruined  by  the  sun  and  rain,  riddled  like 
a  cabbage  leaf  on  which  many  caterpillars  have  resided,  and 
sewn  up  with  white  cotton.  Under  this  hat  was  a  dark  hol- 
low face,  in  which  mouth,  nose,  and  eyes  were  four  darker 
spots.  His  worn  jacket  was  like  a  piece  of  patchwork,  and 
his  trousers  were  of  sacking. 


A  BACHELOirS  ESTABLISHMENT.  141 

"I  am  Doctor  Rouget,"  said  the  physician;  "and,  since 
you  are  the  child's  guardian,  bring  her  to  my  house,  Place 
Saint-Jean  ;  it  will  not  be  a  bad  day's  work  lor  you  or  for 
her  either." 

And  without  another  word,  feeling  quite  sure  that  he  should 
see  Uncle  Brazier  in  due  course  with  the  pretty  Rabouilleusc, 
Doctor  Rouget  spurred  his  horse  on  the  road  to  Issoudun. 
And,  in  fact,  just  as  he  was  sitting  down  to  dinner,  his  cook 
announced  Citoyen  and  Citoyenne  Brazier. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  doctor  to  the  uncle  and  niece. 

Flore  and  her  guardian,  both  barefoot,  looked  round  the 
doctor's  dining-room  with  eyes  amazed  ;  and  this  was  why  : 

The  house,  inherited  by  Rouget  from  old  Descoings,  stands 
in  the  middle  of  one  side  of  the  Place  Saint-Jean,  a  long  and 
very  narrow  square  planted  with  a  few  sickly-looking  lime 
trees.  The  houses  here  are  better  built  than  in  any  other  part 
of  the  town,  and  Descoings'  is  one  of  the  best.  This  house, 
facing  Monsieur  Hochon's,  has  three  windows  on  the  front 
towards  the  square,  on  the  second  floor,  and  below  them  a  car- 
riage gate  into  the  courtyard,  behind  which  the  garden  lies. 
Under  the  archway  of  this  carriage  gate  is  a  door  into  a  large 
room  with  two  windows  to  the  street.  The  kitchen  is  behind 
this  room,  but  cut  off  by  a  staircase  leading  to  the  second  floor 
and  attics  above.  At  an  angle  with  the  kitchen  are  a  wood- 
house,  a  shed  where  the  washing  is  done,  stabling  for  two 
horses,  and  a  coach-house;  and  above  them  are  lofts  for  corn, 
hay,  and  oats,  besides  a  room  where  the  doctor's  manservant 
slept. 

The  room,  so  much  admired  by  the  little  peasant-girl  and 
her  uncle,  was  decorated  with  carved  wood  in  the  style  exe- 
cuted under  Louis  XV.,  and  painted  gray,  and  a  handsome 
marble  chimney-piece,  above  which  Flore  could  see  herself  in 
a  large  glass  reaching  to  the  ceiling,  and  set  in  a  carved  and 
gilt  frame.  On  the  panels,  at  intervals,  hung  a  few  pictures, 
the  spoil  of  the  abbeys  of  Deols,  of  Issoudun,  of  Saint-Gildas, 


142  A   BACHELOR'S  ESIABLISHMENT. 

of  La  Free,  of  Chezal-Benoit,  of  Saint-Sulpice,  and  of  the 
convents  of  Bourges  and  Issoudun,  which  had  formerly  been 
enriched  by  the  liberality  of  kings  and  of  the  faithful  with 
precious  gifts  and  the  finest  works  of  the  Renaissance.  Thus, 
among  the  pictures  preserved  by  Descoings  and  inherited  by 
Rouget,  there  was  a  Holy  Family  by  Albano,  a  Saint  Jerome 
by  Domenichino,  a  Head  of  Christ  by  Gian  Bellini,  a  Virgin 
by  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  Christ  bearing  the  Cross  by  Titian, 
from  the  Marchese  di  Belabre's  collection — he  wlio  stood  a 
siege  and  had  his  head  cut  off  under  Louis  XIIL;  a  Lazarus 
by  Veronese,  a  Marriage  of  the  Virgin  by  the  Priest  of  Genoa, 
two  church  pictures  by  Rubens,  and  a  copy  from  Perugino  by 
Perugino  himself,  or  by  Raphael ;  finally,  two  Correggios  and 
an  Andrea  del  Sarto.  The  Descoings  had  chosen  these  from 
among  three  hundred,  the  spoils  of  churches,  not  in  the  least 
knowing  their  value,  and  selecting  them  solely  for  their  better 
condition.  Several  had  not  merely  magnificent  frames,  but 
were  under  glass.  It  was  the  beauty  of  the  frames,  and  the 
value  which  the  panes  seemed  to  suggest,  that  had  led  to  tlieir 
choice. 

Thus  the  furniture  of  the  room  was  not  devoid  of  the  luxury 
so  much  prized  in  our  days,  though  not  at  that  time  valued  at 
Issoudun.  The  clock  standing  on  the  chimney-shelf  between 
two  superb  silver  chandeliers  was  distinguished 'by  a  solemn 
magnificence  that  betrayed  the  hand  of  Boule.  The  arm- 
chairs in  carved  wood,  fitted  with  worsted-work  done  by  de- 
vout ladies  of  rank,  would  be  highly  prized  in  these  days,  for 
they  all  bore  coronets  and  coats-of-arms.  Between  the  two 
windows  stood  a  handsome  console,  brought  from  some  cha- 
teau, and  on  it  an  enormous  Chinese  jar,  in  which  the  doctor 
kept  his  tobacco. 

Neither  Rouget,  nor  his  son,  nor  the  cook,  nor  the  man- 
servant took  the  least  care  of  these  treasures.  They  spit  into 
a  fireplace  of  beautiful  workmanship,  and  the  gilt  mouldings 
were  variegated  with  verdigris.     A  pretty  chandelier,  partly 


A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  143 

of  porcelain,  was  speckled  like  the  ceiling,  with  black  spots, 
showing  that  the  flies  were  at  home  there.  The  Descoings 
had  hung  the  windows  with  brocade  curtains,  stripped  from 
the  bed  of  some  abbot.  To  the  left  of  the  door  a  cabinet 
worth  some  thousands  of  francs  served  as  a  sideboard. 

"Now,  Fanchette,"  said  the  doctor  to  his  cook,  "bring 
two  glasses,  and  fetch  us  something  good." 

Fanchette,  a  sturdy  country  servant,  who  was  regarded  as 
superior  even  to  La  Cognette  and  the  best  cook  in  Issoudun, 
flew  with  an  alacrity  that  testified  to  the  doctor's  despotic  rule, 
and  also  to  some  curiosity  on  her  part. 

"  What  is  an  acre  of  vineland  worth  in  your  parts?"  said 
the  doctor,  pouring  out  a  glass  of  wine  for  Brazier, 

"A  hundred  crowns  in  hard  cash." 

"Well,  leave  your  niece  here  as  maidservant;  she  shall 
have  a  hundred  crowns  for  wages,  and  you,  as  her  guardian, 
shall  take  the  money " 

"Every  year?"  said  Brazier,  opening  his  eyes  to  the  size 
of  saucers. 

"  I  leave  the  matter  to  your  conscience,"  replied  the  doctor. 
"  She  is  an  orphan.  Till  she  is  eighteen  Flore  will  have  none 
of  the  money." 

"  She  is  goin'  on  for  twelve,"  said  the  uncle ;  "  that  makes 
it  up  to  six  acres  of  vineland.  But  she  is  sweetly  pretty,  as 
mild  as  a  lamb,  very  strong,  very  quick,  very  obedient.  Poor 
creetur,  she  was  the  apple  of  his  eye  to  my  poor  brother." 

"  And  I  will  pay  a  year  in  advance,"  said  the  doctor. 

"Lord  A'mighty,  make  it  two  years,  and  us'll  consider  it 
settled.  She  will  be  better  off"  with  you  than  down  at  our 
place,  for  my  wife  whacks  her,  she  can't  abide  her.  There's 
only  me  that  purtects  her,  poor  dear  little  creetur — as  inno- 
cent as  a  new-born  babe  !  " 

On  hearing  this  speech,  the  doctor,  struck  by  the  word 
innocent,  signed  to  Uncle  Brazier,  and  led  him  out  into  the 
courtyard,  and    thence   into   the    garden,  leaving   the  little 


144  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Rabouilleuse  looking  at  the  table  between  Fanchette  and 
Jean-Jacques,  who  cross-questioned  her,  and  to  whom  she  art- 
lessly related  her  meeting  with  the  doctor. 

"Well,  honey,  good-by,"  said  Uncle  Brazier  on  his  return, 
kissing  Flore  on  the  forehead.  "You  may  thank  me  for  a 
good  job  in  leaving  you  with  this  kind  and  generous  father 
of  the  poor.  You've  got  to  obey  him  like  as  you  would  me. 
Be  a  very  good  girl,  and  do  what  he  tells  you." 

"Get  the  room  over  mine  ready,"  said  the  doctor  to  Fan- 
chette. "This  little  Flore,  who  is  certainly  well  named,  will 
sleep  there  from  this  evening.  To-morrow  we  will  send  for 
a  shoemaker  and  a  needlewoman.  Now,  lay  a  place  for  her 
at  once  ;  she  will  keep  us  company." 

That  evening  nothing  was  talked  of  in  Issoudun  but  the 
introduction  of  a  little  "rabouilleuse"  into  Doctor  Rouget's 
household.  The  nickname  stuck  to  Mademoiselle  Brazier  in 
this  land  of  mocking  spirits,  before,  during,  and  after  her  rise 
to  fortune. 

The  doctor  aimed,  no  doubt,  at  doing  for  Flore,  in  a  small 
way,  what  Louis  XV.  did  on  a  large  scale  for  Mademoiselle 
de  Romans ;  but  he  set  to  work  too  late.  Louis  XV.  was  still 
a  young  man,  while  the  doctor  had  arrived  at  the  verge  of  old 
age. 

From  twelve  years  old  to  fourteen  the  charming  peasant- 
girl  enjoyed  unmixed  happiness.  Nicely  dressed,  in  infinitely 
better  clothes  than  the  richest  miss  in  Issoudun,  she  had  a 
gold  watch  and  trinkets,  given  her  by  the  doctor  to  encourage 
her  in  her  studies,  for  she  had  a  master  to  teach  her  reading, 
writing,  and  account-keeping.  But  the  almost  animal  life  led 
by  the  peasantry  had  given  Flore  such  an  aversion  for  the 
bitter  cup  of  learning,  that  the  doctor  got  no  farther  with  her 
education. 

His  intentions  with  regard  to  this  girl  whom  he  was  polish- 
ing, teaching,  and  training  with  a  care  that  was  all  the  more 
pathetic,  because  he  had  been  supposed  incapable  of  tender- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  145 

ness,  were  variously  interpreted  by  the  vulgar  gossips  of  the 
town,  whose  tattle  gave  rise,  as  in  the  matter  of  Agathe's  and 
Max's  parentage,  to  serious  mistakes.  It  is  not  easy  for  the 
population  of  a  ».own  to  disentangle  the  truth  from  a  thousand 
conjectures  in  the  midst  of  contradictory  comments,  and 
among  all  the  hypotheses  to  which  a  single  fact  gives  rise. 
In  the  provinces,  as  formerly  among  the  politicians  of  ia  petite 
Provence  at  the  Tuileries,  everything  must  be  accounted  for, 
and  at  last  everybody  knows  everything.  But  each  indi- 
vidual clings  to  the  view  of  affairs  that  he  prefers ;  that  is  the 
only  true  one,  he  can  prove  it,  and  believes  his  own  version 
exclusively.  Hence,  notwitlistanding  the  unscreened  life  and 
the  espionage  of  a  country  town,  the  truth  is  often  obscured, 
and  can  be  detected  only  by  the  impartiality  of  the  historian, 
or  of  a  superior  mind  looking  down  from  a  higher  point  of 
view. 

"  What  do  you  suppose  that  old  ape  wants,  at  his  age,  of  a 
child  of  fifteen?"  said  one  and  another,  two  years  after 
Flore's  arrival. 

"What  indeed?"  replied  a  third;  "his  high  days  are 
long  since  past  and  gone." 

"  My  dear  fellow,  the  doctor  is  disgusted  with  his  idiot  of  a 
son,  and  he  cannot  get  over  his  hatred  of  Agathe ;  in  that 
dilemma  perhaps  he  has  been  such  a  good  boy  these  two  years 
past  in  order  to  marry  the  girl ;  and  he  might  have  a  boy  by 
her,  strong  and  sturdy  and  wide-awake  like  Max,"  observed 
a  wisehead. 

"  Get  along  !  Do  you  suppose  that  after  leading  such  a 
life  as  Lousteau  and  Rouget  did  between  1770  and  1787,  a 
man  of  sixty-two  is  likely  to  have  children  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it  : 
the  old  wretch  has  read  his  Old  Testament,  if  only  from  a 
medical  point  of  view,  and  he  knows  how  King  David 
warmed  himself  in  his  old  age.  That  is  all,  my  good 
fellow." 

"  They  say   that    Brazier,   when  he   is   fuddled,   boasts  at 
10 


146  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Vatan  that  he  stole  the  child,"  cried  one  of  those  people  who 
prefer  to  believe  the  worst. 

"Bless  me!  neighbor,  and  what  won't  folks  say  at 
Issoudun  ?  " 

From  1800  to  1805,  for  five  years,  the  doctor  had  the 
pleasure  of  educating  Flore  without  the  worry  which  Made- 
moiselle de  Romans  is  said  to  have  given  to  Louis  the  Well- 
beloved  by  her  ambitions  and  pretensions.  The  little  "  rabou- 
illeuse"  was  so  happy,  comparing  the  position  she  now  was  in 
with  the  life  she  would  have  led  with  her  uncle,  that  she  sub- 
mitted, no  doubt,  to  her  master's  requirements,  as  an  eastern 
slave  does. 

With  all  respect  to  the  writers  of  idyls  and  to  philanthro- 
pists, the  sons  of  the  soil  have  but  vague  notions  of  certain 
virtues  ;  their  scruples  have  their  root  in  self-interest,  not  in 
any  feeling  for  the  good  and  beautiful  ;  brought  up  to  look 
forward  to  poverty,  to  incessant  toil  and  want,  the  prospect 
makes  them  regard  everything  as  allowable  that  can  rescue 
them  from  the  hell  of  hunger  and  everlasting  labor,  especially 
if  it  is  not  prohibited  by  law.  If  there  are  exceptions,  they 
are  rare.  Virtue,  socially  speaking,  is  mated  with  ease,  and 
begins  with  education.  Flore  Brazier  was,  therefore,  an 
object  of  envy  to  every  girl  for  six  leagues  round  Issoudun, 
though  in  the  eye  of  religion  her  conduct  was  in  the  highest 
degree  reprehensible. 

Flore,  born  in  1787,  was  brought  up  amid  the  Saturnalia  of 
1793  and  1798,  whose  lurid  light  was  reflected  on  a  land 
bereft  of  priesthood,  worship,  altars,  or  religious  ceremonies, 
where  marriage  was  a  civil  contract,  and  where  revolutionary 
axioms  left  a  deep  impression,  especially  at  Issoudun,  where 
rebellion  is  traditional.  Catholic  worship  was  hardly  re-estab- 
lished in  1802.  The  Emperor  had  some  difficulty  in  finding 
priests;  even  in  1S06  many  a  parisli  in  France  was  still  in 
widowhood,  so  slowly  could  a  clergy  decimated  by  the  scaf- 
fold be    reinstated  afier  such  violent  dispersal.     Hence,   in 


A  BACHELOR  S  ES lABLISHMENT.  147 

1802,  there  was  nothing  to  accuse  Flore  but  her  own  con- 
science. In  Uncle  Brazier's  ward  was  not  conscience  likely 
to  prove  weaker  than  interest  ?  Though  the  cynical  doctor's 
age  led  him,  as  there  is  every  reason  to  suppose,  to  respect 
this  maiden  of  fifteen,  she  was  not  the  less  regarded  as  a  very 
wide-awake  young  person.  However,  some  people  insisted 
on  finding  a  certificate  of  innocence  in  the  cessation  of  the 
doctor's  care  and  kindness;  for  the  last  two  years  of  his  life 
he  treated  her  with  more  than  coldness. 

Old  Rouget  had  killed  enough  people  to  be  able  to  foresee 
his  own  end.  His  notary,  finding  him  on  his  death-bed, 
wrapped  in  the  cloak  of  encyclopedist  philosophy,  urged  him 
to  do  something  for  the  young  girl,  then  seventeen  years  old. 

"Very  good,  make  her  of  age,  emancipate  her,"  said  he. 

The  reply  is  characteristic  of  this  old  man,  who  never  failed 
to  point  his  sarcasm  with  an  allusion  to  the  profession  of  the 
man  he  was  answering.  By  veiling  his  evil  deeds  under  a 
witticism  he  obtained  forgiveness  for  them  in  a  part  of  the 
world  where  wit  always  wins  the  day,  especially  when  it  is 
backed  up  by  intelligent  self-interest.  The  notary  heard  in 
this  speech  the  concentrated  hatred  of  a  man  whom  nature 
had  balked  of  an  intended  debauch,  and  his  revenge  on  the 
innocent  object  of  his  senile  affection.  This  opinion  was,  to 
some  extent,  confirmed  by  the  doctor's  obduracy;  he  left 
nothing  to  La  Rabouilleuse,  saying  with  a  bitter  smile,  "  Her 
beauty  is  wealth  enough  !  "  when  the  notary  again  pressed 
the  matter. 

Jean-Jacques  Rouget  did  not  mourn  for  the  old  man,  but 
Flore  did.  The  doctor  had  made  his  son  very  unhappy,  espe- 
cially since  he  had  come  of  age,  which  was  in  1791  ;  whereas 
he  had  given  the  little  peasant-girl  the  material  happiness 
which  is  the  ideal  of  laboring  folk.  When,  after  the  old  man 
was  buried,  Fanchette  said  to  Flore,  "Well,  what  is  to  be- 
come of  you  now  that  monsieur  is  gone?"  Jean-Jacques'  eyes 
beamed,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  his  stolid  face  lighted 


148  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

up,  seemed  to  shine  with  a  flash  of  thought,  and  expressed  a 
feeling. 

"  Leave  her  with  me,"  said  he  to  Fanchette,  who  was 
clearing  the  table. 

Flore,  at  seventeen,  still  had  that  refinement  of  figure  and 
face,  that  elegance  of  beauty  which  had  bewitched  the  doctor; 
women  of  the  world  know  how  to  preserve  it,  but  in  a  peasant- 
girl  it  fades  as  swiftly  as  the  flowers  of  the  field.  At  the  same 
time,  the  tendency  to  become  stout,  which  comes  to  all  hand- 
some countrywomen  when  they  do  not  lead  a  life  of  toil  and 
privation  in  the  open  fields  and  sunshine,  was  already  notice- 
able in  Flore.  Her  bust  was  large,  her  round,  white  shoulders 
were  richly  moulded  and  finely  joined  to  a  throat  that  already 
showed  fat  wrinkles.  But  the  shape  of  her  face  was  still  pure, 
and  her  chin  as  yet  delicately  cut. 

"Flore,"  said  Jean-Jacques  in  agitated  tones,  "you  are 
quite  used  to  this  house?  " 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Jacques." 

On  the  very  verge  of  a  declaration,  the  heir  felt  his  tongue 
tied  by  the  remembrance  of  the  dead  man  but  now  laid  in  his 
grave,  and  wondered  to  what  lengths  his  father's  benevolence 
might  have  gone.  Flore,  looking  at  her  new  master,  and 
incapable  of  imagining  his  simplicity,  waited  for  some  minutes 
for  Jean-Jacques  to  proceed  ;  but  she  presently  left  him,  not 
knowing  what  to  think  of  his  obstinate  silence.  Whatever 
education  she  might  have  had  from  the  doctor,  it  was  many  a 
day  before  she  understood  the  character  of  his  son,  of  whom 
this,  in  a  few  words,  is  the  history  : 

At  his  father's  death  Jacques,  now  tliirty-seven  years  old, 
was  as  timid  and  as  submissive  to  parental  discipline  as  any 
boy  of  twelve.  This  timidity  will  account  for  his  childhood, 
youth,  and  life  to  such  readers  as  might  not  otherwise  be- 
lieve in  such  a  character,  or  the  facts  of  a  story  which  is  com- 
mon, alas  !  in  every  rank  of  life — even  among  princes,  for 
Sophie  Dawes  was  taken   up  by  the  last  of  the  Cond^s  in  a 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  149 

worse  position  than  that  of  La  Rabouilleuse.  There  are  two 
kinds  of  timidity — timidity  of  mind  and  timidity  of  the 
nerves;  physical  timidity  and  moral  timidity.  Each  is  inde- 
pendent of  the  other.  The  body  may  be  frightened  and 
quake  while  the  mind  remains  calm  and  bold,  and  vice  versa. 
This  is  the  key  to  many  eccentricities  of  conduct.  When 
both  kinds  meet  in  the  same  man  he  will  be  good  for  nothing 
all  his  life.  This  utter  timidity  is  that  of  the  person  of  whom 
we  say,  "He  is  imbecile."  Still,  this  imbecility  sometimes 
covers  great  qualities  though  suppressed.  To  this  double  in- 
firmity perhaps  do  we  owe  certain  monks  who  have  lived  in 
ecstasy.  This  unhappy  moral  and  physical  disposition  may 
be  produced  by  the  perfection  of  the  bodily  organs  and  of  the 
soul,  as  well  as  by  certain  defects,  as  yet  not  fully  studied. 

Jean-Jacques'  timidity  arose  from  a  certain  torpor  of  his 
faculties,  which  a  first-rate  tutor,  or  a  surgeon  like  Desplein, 
would  have  roused.  In  him,  as  in  cretins,  the  sensual  side  of 
love  had  absorbed  the  strength  and  energy  which  his  intelli- 
gence lacked,  though  he  had  sense  enough  to  conduct  himself 
through  life.  The  violence  of  his  passsion,  stripped  of  the 
ideal,  in  which  it  blossoms  in  other  young  men,  added  to  his 
timidity.  He  never  could  make  up  his  mind  to  go  courting, 
to  use  a  familiar  expression,  to  any  woman  in  Issoudun.  Now 
no  young  girl  or  woman  could  make  advances  to  an  under- 
sized man,  with  a  vulgar  face,  which  two  prominent  green- 
gooseberry  eyes  would  have  made  ugly  enough,  if  pinched 
features  and  a  sallow  complexion  had  not  made  him  look  old 
before  his  time.  In  fact,  the  vicinity  of  a  woman  annihilated 
the  poor  boy,  who  was  goaded  by  his  passion  as  vehemently 
as  he  was  bridled  by  the  few  notions  he  had  derived  from  his 
education.  Halting  between  two  equal  forces,  he  did  not 
know  what  to  say,  and  dreaded  to  be  asked  a  question,  so  ter- 
rified was  he  at  having  to  reply.  Desire,  which  generally 
loosens  a  man's  tongue,  froze  his. 

So   Jean-Jacques   lived   solitary  and   sought   solitiide,  not 


150  A' BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

finding  it  irksome.  The  doctor  saw,  too  late  to  remedy 
them,  the  disastrous  results  of  this  temperament  and  character. 
He  would  gladly  have  seen  his  son  married ;  but  as  that 
would  have  been  to  subject  him  to  a  rule  which  would  soon 
be  despotic,  he  could  not  but  hesitate.  -Would  not  that  be 
to  hand  over  his  fortune  to  the  management  of  a  stranger,  an 
unknown  woman  ?  Now  he  well  knew  how  difficult  it  is  to 
foresee,  from  a  study  of  a  young  girl,  exactly  what  the 
woman's  character  may  become.  And  so,  while  looking 
about  him  for  a  daughter-in-law  whose  education  or  whose 
ideas  should  be  a  sufficient  guarantee,  he  tried  to  guide  his 
son  into  the  paths  of  avarice.  Failing  intelligence,  he  hoped 
thus  to  give  this  simpleton  a  guiding  instinct.  He  began  br 
accustoming  him  to  a  mechanical  existence,  and  gave  him 
fixed  notions  as  to  the  investment  of  money ;  then  he  spare(S 
him  the  chief  difficulties  of  the  management  of  a  landed  estate 
by  leaving  all  his  lands  in  capital  order,  and  let  on  long 
leases.  And  for  all  that,  the  principal  fact,  which  was  to  b'' 
paramount  in  this  poor  creature's  life,  escaped  the  doctor*-:; 
penetration — Jean-Jacques' was  passionately  in  love  with  \jr 
Rabouilleuse. 

Nothing  could,  indeed,  be  more  natural.  Flore  was  the 
only  woman  with  whom  the  young  man  came  in  contact,  the 
only  woman  he  ever  saw  at  his  ease,  gazing  on  her  in  secret, 
and  watching  her  from  hour  to  hour ;  for  him  Flore  was  the 
light  of  his  father's  house  ;  without  knowing  it,  she  afforded 
him  the  only  pleasures  that  gilded  his  youth.  Far  from  being 
jealous  of  his  father,  he  was  delighted  by  the  education  he 
bestowed  on  Flore  :  was  not  the  wife  he  needed  an  approach- 
able woman  wlio  would  need  no  courting  ?  For  passion,  be 
it  observed,  brings  insight  with  it  ;  it  can  give  a  sort  of  in- 
telligence to  simpletons,  fools,  and  idiots,  especially  during 
youth.  In  the  least  human  soul  we  always  find  the  animal 
instinct  which,  in  its  persistency,  is  like  a  thought. 

Next   day,    Flore,    who    had    meditated    on    her    master's 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  151 

silence,  expected  some  important  communication ;  but, 
though  he  hovered  about  her,  looking  at  her  with  covert, 
amorous  glances,  Jean-Jacques  found  nothing  to  say.  At 
last,  at  dessert,  the  master  began  again  as  he  had  begun 
yesterday. 

"You  are  comfortable  here?"  he  asked  Flore. 

"Yes,  Monsieur  Jean." 

"Well,  stay  then." 

"  Thank  you,  Monsieur  Jean." 

This  strange  state  of  things  lasted  for  three  weeks.  One 
night,  when  not  a  sound  broke  the  stillness,  Flore,  waking 
by  chance,  heard  the  regular  breathing  of  a  man  at  her  door, 
and  was  frightened  at  finding  Jean-Jacques  lying  on  the  mat 
like  a  dog,  having,  no  doubt,  made  some  little  hole  at  the 
bottom  of  the  door  to  see  into  the  room. 

"  He  is  in  love  with  me,"  thought  she ;  "  but  he  will  get 
the  rheumatism  at  this  game." 

Next  day  Flore  looked  at  her  master  in  a  marked  way. 
This  speechless  and  almost  instinctive  love  had  touched  her; 
she  no  longer  thought  the  poor  simple  creature  so  hideous, 
in  spite  of  the  ulcerlike  spots  on  his  temples  and  forehead, 
the  terrible  rr>ronal  of  vitiated  blood. 

"You  do  not  want  to  go  back  to  the  open  fields,  I  sup- 
pose?" said  Jean-Jacques,  when  they  were  alone. 

"  Why  do  you  ask?  "  said  she,  look'ng  at  him. 

"I  wanted  to  know "  replied  Rouget,  turning  the  color 

of  a  boiled  lobster. 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  go?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  mademoiselle." 

"Well,  then,  what  is  it  you  want  to  know?  You  have 
•oome  reason " 

"Yes,  I  wanted  to  know " 

"What?"  said  Flore. 

"  You  would  not  tell  me." 

"  Yes,  on  my  word  as  an  honest  woman." 


152  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"Ah!  That  is  the  point,"  said  Rouget,  alarmed.  "You 
are  an  honest  woman?  " 

"  By  heaven  !  " 

"  Yes— really  ?  " 

"  Since  I  say  it " 

"Come,  now.  Are  you  the  same  now  as  you  were 
when  you  stood  there  barefoot,  brought  here  by  your 
uncle?  " 

"A  pretty  question,  on  my  word!"  exclaimed  Flore, 
reddening. 

The  heir  bent  his  head  in  silence,  and  did  not  look  up 
again.  Flore,  astounded  at  finding  her  reply,  so  flatter- 
ing to  the  man,  received  with  such  consternation,  left  the 
room. 

Three  days  later,  at  the  same  hour,  for  they  both  seemed 
to  regard  the  dessert  as  the  scene  of  battle,  Flore  was  the 
first  to  say  to  her  master,  "Are  you  vexed  with  me  for 
anything?  " 

"  No,  mademoiselle,"  he  replied.  "  No on  the  con- 
trary  " 

"  You  seemed  so  much  annoyed  the  other  day  at  hearing 
that  I  was  an  honest  girl " 

"  No;  I  only  wanted  to  know but  you  would  not  tell 

me." 

"  On  my  honor,"  said  she,  "  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  truth." 

"The  whole  truth  about my  father "  said  he  in  a 

choked  voice. 

"Your  father,"  said  she,  looking  straight  into  her  master's 

eyes,  "was  a  good  fellow;  he  loved  a  laugh Well,  a 

little Poor  dear  man,  it  was  not  for  want  of  will.     And 

then  he  had  some  grievance  against  you,  I  don't  know  what, 
and  he  had  intentions — oh  !  unfortunate  intentions.  He  often 
made  me  laugh;   well  !  that  is  all.     And  what  then?" 

"Well,  then,  Flore,"  said  the  heir,  taking  the  girl's  hand, 
"  since  my  father  was  nothing  to  you " 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLTSHMENT.  153 

"Why,  what  did  you  suppose  he  was  to  me  ? "  she  ex- 
claimed, in  the  tone  of  a  girl  offended  by  an  insulting  sugges- 
tion. 

"Well,  then,  listen  to  me." 

"  He  was  my  benefactor,  that  was  all.  Ah  !  he  would  have 
liked  to  make  me  his  wife but " 

"But,"  said  Rouget,  taking  her  hand  again,  for  she  had 
pulled  it  away,  "since  he  was  nothing  of  the  kind,  you  can 
stay  here  with  me  ?  " 

"If  you  like,"  said  she,  looking  down. 

"No,  no.  It  is  if  you  like,  _>'<?«,"  replied  Rouget.  "Yes, 
you  may  be — mistress  here.  All  that  is  here  shall  be  yours ; 
you  shall  take  care  of  my  fortune ;  it  will  be  the  same  as  your 
own.  For  I  love  you,  and  I  always  have  loved  you,  from  the 
moment  when  you  first  came  in  here — there — barefoot." 

Flore  made  no  reply.  The  silence  became  awkward,  and 
Jean-Jacques  then  uttered  this  odious  argument — 

"  Come,  it  would  be  better  than  going  back  to  the  fields, 
wouldn't  it?"  he  asked  with  manifest  eagerness. 

"  Dame  !  Monsieur  Jean,  as  you  please,"  said  she. 

But,  notwithstanding  this  "as  you  please,"  poor  Rouget 
was  no  forwarder.  Men  of  that  type  must  have  a  certainty. 
The  effort  i*  is  to  them  to  confess  their  love  is  so  great,  and 
costs  them  so  dear,  that  they  know  they  can  never  do  it  again. 
Hence  their  attachment  to  the  first  woman  who  may  accept 
them. 

Events  can  only  be  inferred  from  the  results.  Ten  months 
after  his  father's  death,  Jean-Jacques  was  another  man  ;  his 
pallid,  leaden-hued  face,  disfigured  by  little  boils  on  the 
temples  and  forehead,  had  lighted  up,  grown  clear-skinned 
and  acquired  a  rosy  tinge.  His  countenance  shone  with 
happiness.  Flore  insisted  on  her  master  taking  the  greatest 
care  of  his  person,  and  made  it  a  point  of  honor  to  herself 
that  he  should  be  neatly  dressed  ;  she  would  look  after  him  as 
he  went  out  for  a  walk,  standing  on  the  doorstep  till  he  was 


154  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

out  of  sight.  All  the  town  observed  this  alteration,  which 
had  made  a  new  creature  of  the  heretofore  careless  and  indif- 
ferent Jean-Jacques  Rouget. 

"Have  you  heard  the  news?"  asked  one  and  another  in 
Issoudun. 

"Why— what?" 

"Jean  has  inherited  everything  from  his  father,  even  La 
Rabouilleuse ' ' 

"  Did  you  suppose  that  the  old  doctor  was  not  sharp  enough 
to  leave  his  son  a  housekeeper?  " 

"  She  is  a  perfect  treasure  for  Rouget,  that  is  certain,"  was 
the  general  cry. 

"She  is  a  crafty  one  !  She  is  very  handsome;  she  will 
make  him  marry  her." 

"  What  luck  that  girl  has  had  !  " 

"  It  is  the  luck  that  only  comes  to  handsome  girls." 

"  Pooh,  nonsense  !  So  you  fancy.  But  there  was  my  uncle, 
Borniche-Herau ;  well,  you  have  heard  him  speak  of  Made- 
moiselle Ganivet ;  she  was  as  ugly  as  the  seven  deadly  sins, 
and  he  left  her  no  less  than  a  thousand  crowns  a  year " 

"Bah!   that  was  in  1778  !  " 

"  All  the  same,  Rouget  is  a  fool ;  his  father  left  him  at  least 
forty  thousand  francs  a  year.  He  might  have  married  Made- 
moiselle Herau." 

"  The  doctor  tried  that  on,  but  she  would  have  nothing  to 
say  to  it  ;  Rouget  is  too  great  an  idiot " 

"An  idiot!  Women  are  very  happy  with  men  of  that 
sort." 

"  Is  your  wife  happy  ?  " 

Such  were  the  comments  current  in  Issoudun.  Though, 
after  the  manners  and  customs  of  the  provinces,  the  world 
began  by  laughing  at  this  quasi-marriage,  it  ended  by  admir- 
ing Flore  for  devoting  herself  to  this  poor  creature.  This 
was  how  Flore  Brazier  rose  to  sovereignty  over  the  house  of 
Rouget,  "  from  father  to  son,"  to  quote  the  words  of  Goddet 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTAB r.ISnMF.:^T.  155 

ju7iior.     It  will  now  be  proper  to  sketch  the  history  of  her 
rule  for  the  better  information  of  other  baciielors. 

The  only  person  in  Issoudun  to  complain  of  Flore  Brazier's 
installation  as  queen  on  Jean-Jacques  Rouget's  hearth  was  old 
Fanchette  ;  she  protested  against  such  an  immoral  state  of 
affairs,  and  took  the  part  of  outraged  decency.  To  be  sure, 
she  felt  humiliated  at  her  age  at  having  for  her  mistress  a 
rabouilleuse,  a  girl  who  had  come  to  the  house  without  a  shoe 
to  her  foot.  Fanchette  had  three  hundred  francs  a  year  from 
securities  in  the  funds,  for  the  doctor  had  made  her  invest 
her  savings,  and  her  late  master  had  left  her  an  annuity  of  a 
hundred  crowns,  so  she  could  live  comfortably;  and  she  left 
the  house  nine  months  after  her  old  master's  funeral,  on  the 
15th  of  April,  1S06.  To  the  perspicacious  reader,  this  will 
seem  to  mark  the  date  when  Flore  ceased  to  be  "an  honest 
girl." 

La  Rabouilleuse,  keen  enough  to  foresee  Fanchette's  defec- 
tion— for  there  is  nothing  like  exercise  of  power  to  inculcate 
politics — Iiad  made  up  her  mind  to  do  without  a  maid.  For 
the  last  six  months  she  had,  without  betraying  it,  been  study- 
ing the  culinary  arts  which  made  Fanchette  a  cordon  bleu 
worthy  to  cater  for  a  doctor.  As  epicures,  doctors  may  rank 
with  bishops.  Doctor  Rouget  had  perfected  Fanchette.  In 
the  country  the  lack  of  occupation  and  the  monotony  of  life 
are  apt  to  turn  an  active  mind  to  cooking.  Dinners  are  not 
so  luxurious  as  in  Paris,  but  they  are  better  ;  the  dishes  are 
studied  and  thought  out.  Buried  in  the  country,  there  are 
Caremes  in  petticoats,  undiscovered  geniuses,  who  know  how 
to  turn  out  a  simple  dish  of  beans  worthy  of  the  approving 
nod  with  which  Rossini  welcomes  a  perfectly  successful  effort. 

The  doctor,  while  studying  for  his  degree  at  Paris,  had 
followed  Rouelle's  course  of  chemistry,  and  had  picked  up 
some  notions,  which  he  turned  to  account  in  culinary  chemis- 
try.    He  is  remembered  at  Issoudun  for  various  improvements 


156  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

little  known  beyond  the  limits  of  Berry.  He  discovered  that 
an  omelette  is  far  more  delicate  when  the  white  and  yolk 
of  the  eggs  are  not  beaten  together  in  the  rough-and-ready  fash- 
ion in  which  most  cooks  perform  the  operation.  By  his  recipe, 
the  white  should  be  beaten  to  a  stiff  froth,  and  the  yolk  added 
by  degrees.  Then  it  should  not  be  cooked  in  a  frying-pan, 
but  in  a  cagnard  of  china  or  earthenware.  A  cagnard  is  a 
sort  of  thick  dish  on  four  feet,  which,  when  it  is  placed  on 
the  charcoal  stove,  allow  the  air  to  surround  it,  and  so  pre- 
vent its  cracking.  In  Touraine,  the  cagnard  is  called  a  cau- 
quemarre.  Rabelais,  I  think,  speaks  of  a  cauquemarre  for 
cooking  the  coquecigrues,  which  shows  the  high  antiquity  of 
the  utensil.  The  doctor  had  also  discovered  a  way  of  pre- 
venting the  burned  flavor  of  brown  sauce  ;  but  this  secret, 
which  he  unfortunately  kept  in  his  own  kitchen,  has  been  lost. 
Flore,  born  with  the  gift  of  frying  and  roasting,  the  two 
arts  which  neither  study  nor  experience  can  acquire,  was  soon 
Fanchette's  superior.  In  making  herself  a  cordon  bleu,  she  was 
thinking  of  Jean-Jacques'  comfort  ;  still,  she  too,  it  must  be 
owned,  was  not  a  little  greedy.  Like  all  uneducated  persons, 
being  unable  to  occupy  her  brain,  she  expended  her  energies 
in  the  house.  She  rubbed  up  the  furniture,  restored  its  lustre, 
and  kept  everything  throughout  the  house  in  a  state  of  clean- 
liness worthy  of  Holland.  She  directed  the  avalanches  of 
dirty  linen,  and  the  deluge  known  as  a  great  wash,  which,  in 
the  French  provinces,  takes  place  but  three  times  a  year. 
She  examined  the  linen  with  a  housewifely  eye,  and  mended 
it  with  care.  Then,  anxious  to  initiate  herself  by  degrees 
into  the  secrets  of  wealth,  she  mastered  the  small  knowledge 
of  business  possessed  by  Rouget,  and  increased  it  by  talking 
with  Monsieur  Hdron,  the  late  doctor's  notary.  Thus  she 
could  give  her  little  Jean-Jacques  excellent  advice.  Sure,  as 
she  was,  of  remaining  mistress  of  the  position,  she  nursed  the 
poor  fellow's  interests  with  as  much  care  and  parsimony  as  if 
they  had  been  her  own.     She  had  nothing  to  fear  from  her 


A  BACHELOR'S    ESTABLISHMENT.  157 

uncle's  demands.  Two  montlis  after  the  doctor's  death, 
Brazier  died  of  a  fall  as  he  came  out  of  the  tavern  where, 
since  fortune  had  visited  him,  he  passed  all  his  time.  Flore's 
father  was  also  dead  ;  thus  she  served  her  master  with  all  the 
affection  due  from  an  orphan  who  was  happy  to  be  able  to 
make  herself  a  home  and  find  some  interest  in  life. 

This  period  was  paradise  to  poor  Jean-Jacques,  who 
acquired  the  easy  habits  of  an  animal  existence,  graced  by  a 
sort  of  monastic  regularity.  He  slept  very  late  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  Flore,  who  was  up  at  daybreak  to  buy  provisions  or  do 
the  work  of  the  house,  woke  her  master  in  time  for  him  to 
find  breakfast  ready  as  soon  as  he  was  dressed.  After  break- 
fast, at  about  eleven  o'clock,  Jean-Jacques  took  a  walk, 
chatted  with  any  one  he  met,  came  home  by  three  o'clock  to 
read  the  papers — that  of  the  department,  and  a  Paris  paper, 
which  he  received  three  days  after  publication,  greasy  from 
thirty  hands  through  which  they  had  passed,  dirty  from  the 
snuffy  noses  that  smeared  them,  brown  from  the  many  tables 
they  had  lain  on.  Thus  our  bachelor  got  to  the  dinner-hour, 
and  he  spent  as  long  a  time  as  he  could  over  it.  Flore  told 
him  stories  of  the  town,  and  all  the  current  gossip  she  had 
picked  up.  By  eight  o'clock  the  lights  were  out.  Early  to 
bed  is,  in  the  country,  a  common  form  of  saving  in  candles 
and  firing,  but  it  tends  to  stupefy  folks  by  an  abuse  of  bed  ; 
too  much  sleep  deadens  and  stultifies  the  mind. 

Such,  for  nine  years,  was  the  life  of  these  two  beings — a 
life  at  once  busy  and  vacuous,  of  which  the  chief  events  were 
a  few  journeys  to  Bourges,  to  Vierzon,  to  Chateauroux,  or 
even  a  little  farther,  when  neither  Monsieur  Heron  nor  the 
notaries  of  those  towns  had  any  mortgages  to  offer.  Rouget 
invested  his  money  in  first  mortgages  at  five  per  cent.,  with 
substitution  in  favor  of  the  wife  when  the  lender  should 
marry.  He  never  advanced  more  than  a  third  of  the  real 
value  of  the  estate,  and  he  had  notes  drawn  to  his  order  repre- 
senting an  additional  two-and-a-half  per  cent.,  for  dates  at 


158  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

intervals  during  the  loan.  These  were  the  rules  impressed  on 
him  by  his  father.  Usury,  the  drag  on  peasant  ambitions,  is 
eating  up  the  land,  and  this  charge  of  seven-and-a-half  per 
cent,  seemed  so  reasonable,  that  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  could 
pick  and  choose  ;  for  the  notaries,  who  extracted  handsome 
commissions  from  the  clients  for  whom  they  got  money  so 
cheap,  would  give  the  old  fellow  notice. 

During  these  nine  years,  Flore,  gradually,  insensibly,  and 
without  intending  it,  had  acquired  absolute  dominion  over 
her  master.  From  the  first  she  treated  Jean -Jacques  with 
great  familiarity  ;  then,  without  fiiiling  in  respect,  she  gained 
the  upper  hand  by  such  manifest  superiority  of  intelligence 
and  power,  that  he  became  his  servant's  servant.  This  grown- 
up child  went  half-way  to  meet  this  dominion,  by  allowing 
himself  to  be  so  much  waited  on,  that  Flore  treated  him  as  a 
mother  treats  her  son.  And  at  last  his  feeling  for  her  was 
that  which  makes  a  mother's  care  necessary  to  a  child.  But 
there  were  other  and  far  stronger  bonds.  In  the  first  place, 
Flore  managed  all  business  matters  and  carried  on  the  house. 
Jean-Jacques  relied  on  her  so  absolutely  for  every  kind  of 
stewardship  that,  without  her,  life  would  have  seemed  to  him 
not  difficult,  but  impossible.  The  woman  had  also  become 
necessary  to  his  existence  ;  she  humored  all  his  fancies — she 
knew  them  so  well !  He  liked  to  see  the  happy  face  that 
always  smiled  on  him  ;  the  only  face  that  ever  had  smiled  on 
him,  or  that  ever  would  smile  on  him  !  Her  happiness, 
purely  material,  expressed  by  the  common  phrases  that  are 
the  backbone  of  language  in  the  households  of  Berry,  and 
expansive  in  her  splendid  person,  was,  in  a  way,  the  reflection 
of  his  own.  The  state  into  which  Jean-Jacques  collapsed 
when  he  saw  Flore  clouded  by  some  little  annoyance  betrayed 
to  the  woman  the  extent  of  her  power  ;  and  she,  to  secure  it, 
would  try  to  exert  it.  In  women  of  that  kind  use  always 
means  abuse.  La  Rabouilleuse,  no  doubt,  made  her  master 
play  his  part   in  some  of  the  scenes  that  lie  buried   in   the 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  159 

mystery  of  private  life,  and  of  wliich  Otway  has  shown  a 
specimen  in  the  midst  of  his  tragedy  of  "  Venice  Preserved  " 
between  the  Senator  and  Aquilina — a  scene  that  gives  the 
magnificence  of  horror.  And  then  Flore  saw  herself  so 
secure  in  her  empire,  that  she  never  thought  of  getting  the 
old  bachelor  to  marry  her  at  this  time ;  unfortunately  for 
him  and  for  herself. 

By  the  end  of  1815,  at  the  age  of  twenty-seven,  Flore  was 
in  the  fullest  bloom  of  her  beauty.  Buxom  and  fair,  a^ 
white-skinned  as  a  farmeress  of  Bessin,  she  was  the  ideal  of 
what  our  forefathers  would  have  called  a  splendid  lass. 
Her  beauty,  somewliat  of  the  inn-servant  order,  but  filled-out 
and  well  fed,  gave  her  some  resemblance,  apart  from  Made- 
moiselle Georges'  imperial  beauty,  to  that  actress  at  her  best. 
Flore  had  the  same  beautiful,  dazzling  white  arms,  the  fullness 
of  outline,  the  pulpy  sheen,  the  delicious  modeling,  but  all 
less  classically  severe.  The  expression  of  her  face  was  tender 
and  sweet.  Her  eye  could  not  command  respect,  like  that  of 
the  most  beautiful  Agrippine  who  has  ever  trod  the  boards  of 
the  Theatre  Frangais  since  Racine's  time ;  it  invited  to 
sensual  joys. 

In  18 16  La  Rabouilleuse  first  saw  Maxence  Gilet,  and  fell 
in  love  with  him  at  first  sight.  Her  heart  was  pierced  by  the 
mythological  dart — that  admirable  symbol  of  a  natural  fact 
which  the  Greeks  inevitably  represented  thus,  having  never 
conceived  of  the  chivalrous  ideal  and  melancholy  passion  be- 
gotten of  Christianity.  Flore  was  at  this  time  too  handsome 
for  Max  to  scorn  such  a  conquest.  And  thus,  at  eight-and- 
twenty,  the  girl  first  knew  real  love,  idolatrous,  infinite  love, 
the  love  which  includes  every  mode  of  loving  from  that  of 
Gulnare  to  that  of  Medora.  As  soon  as  the  penniless  officer 
understood  the  respective  positions  of  Flore  and  Jean-Jacques 
Rouget,  he  saw  something  better  tlian  a  mere  love  affair  in  a 
connection   with   La   Rabouilleuse.     And   so,  for  the  better 


160  A  BACHELOR- S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

security  of  his  future  prospects,  he  was  more  than  content  to 
lodge  under  Rouget's  roof,  seeing  how  weakly  a  creature  the 
old  fellow  was. 

Flore's  passion  could  not  fail  to  have  its  influence  on  Jean- 
Jacques'  life  and  surroundings.  For  a  month  Rouget,  who 
had  become  excessively  afraid  of  her,  saw  Flore's  smiling  and 
friendly  face  grown  gloomy  and  cross.  He  endured  the 
brunt  of  intentional  ill-temper  exactly  like  a  married  man 
whose  wife  is  contemplating  a  betrayal.  When  in  the  midst 
of  her  most  spiteful  outbreaks  the  hapless  man  made  so  bold 
as  to  ask  the  cause  of  tl.is  change,  her  eyes  flashed  with  fires 
of  hatred,  and  her  voice  was  hard  with  aggressive  tones  of 
scorn,  such  as  poor  Jean-Jacques  had  never  met  nor  heard. 

"  By  heaven  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  you  have  neither  heart 
nor  soul.  For  sixteen  years  have  I  been  wasting  my  youth 
here,  and  I  never  discovered  that  you  had  a  stone  there!  " 
and  she  struck  her  heart.  "For  two  months  past  you  have 
seen  that  brave  major  coming  here,  a  victim  to  the  Bourbons, 
who  was  cut  out  for  a  general,  and  who  is  down  on  his  luck, 
driven  into  a  hole  of  a  place  like  this,  where  fortune  is  too 
poor  to  go  out  walking.  He  is  obliged  to  sit,  stuck  to  a  chair 
all  day  in  an  office,  to  earn  what?  Six  hundred  wretched 
francs — a  handsome  income  !  And  you,  who  have  six  hun- 
dred and  fifty-nine  thousand  francs  in  snug  investments,  and 
sixty  tliousand  francs  a  year — not  to  say  that,  thanks  to  me, 
you  don't  spend  a  thousand  crowns  a  year  for  everything  in- 
cluded, even  my  clothes — in  short,  everything — you  never 
think  of  offering  him  slielter  here,  where  the  whole  top  floor 
is  empty  !  No,  you  would  let  the  rats  and  mice  keep  up  a 
dance  there  rather  than  put  a  human  being  in,  and  he  a  man 
your  father  always  regarded  as  his  son  !  Do  you  want  to 
know  what  you  are?  Well,  I  will  tell  you — you  are  a  fratri- 
cide !  And  you  think  I  don't  know  why?  You  saw  that  I 
felt  an  interest  in  him,  and  that  settled  you  !  For  all  that 
you  seem  suf  h  a  blockhead,  you  have  more  cunning  in   you 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  161 

than   the  cunningest,   and  that  is  what  you  are Very 

well  then,  I  do  take  an  interest  in  him a  warm  one  at 

that " 

"But,  Flore " 


"Oh,  there  is  no  'but,  Flore,'  in  the  case.  You  may  go 
and  look  for  another  Flore — if  you  can  find  one  !  For  may 
this  glass  of  wine  poison  me  if  I  don't  turn  out  of  your  hovel 
of  a  house  !  I  shall  have  cost  you  nothing,  thank  God, 
during  the  twelve  years  I  have  stayed  in  it,  and  you  have  had 
your  comforts  cheap  !  Anywhere  else  I  could  have  earned  my 
living  by  working  as  I  do  here :  washing,  ironing,  taking  care 
of  the  linen,  going  to  market,  cooking,  looking  after  your 
interests  in  every  way,  slaving  to  death  from  morning  till 
night.     And  this  is  what  I  get !  " 

"But,  Flore " 

"  Oh,  yes,  P'lore  indeed  !  A  pretty  Flore  you  will  get,  at 
fifty-one,  as  you  are,  and  in  very  bad  health,  and  stooping  so 
that  it  is  frightful  to  see — I  know  all  about  it.     And  with  all 

that  you  are  not  so  very  amusing " 

"But,  Flore " 

"  Tliere,  leave  me  in  peace." 

And  she  left  the  room,  slamming  the  door  with  such  vio- 
lence that  the  house  rang  with  it  and  seemed  to  shake  on  its 
foundations.  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  opened  it  very  gently, 
and  more  gently  still  went  into  the  kitchen  where  Flore  was 
muttering. 

"But,  Flore,"  said  this  sheep,  "  this  is  the  very  first  I  have 
heard  of  your  wishes  ;  how  can  you  tell  whether  I  will  or  will 
not?" 

"In  the  first  place,"  she  went  on,  "  we  ought  to  have  a 
man  in  the  house.  It  is  known  that  you  have  ten,  fifteen, 
twenty  thousand  francs,  and  if  any  one  wanted  to  rob  you  we 
should  be  murdered.  For  my  part,  I  have  no  wish  to  wake  up 
some  morning  cut  into  four  quarters,  like  the  poor  servant- 
girl  wlio  was  fool  enougli  to  try  to  defend  her  master.  Well  ! 
11 


162  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

But  if  it  were  known  that  we  had  a  man  on  tlie  premiics  wlio 
is  as  brave  as  Caesar,  and  has  the  use  of  his  hands — Max  could 
settle  three  thieves  while  you  were  talking  about  it.  Well,  I 
say,  I  should  sleep  easier.  People  will  cram  you  with  non- 
sense. Here,  I  am  in  love  with  him ;  there,  I  adore  him  ! 
Do  you  know  what  you  have  got  to  say  ?  Well,  just  tell  them 
that  you  know  all  that,  but  that  your  father  told  you  on  his 
death-bed  to  take  care  of  his  poor  Max.  Then  every  one  must 
hold  their  tongue,  for  the  flagstones  of  Issoudun  could  tell 
you  that  your  father  paid  for  his  schooling — so  there  !     For 

nine  years  I  have  eaten  your  bread " 

"Flore,  Flore " 

"And  more  than  one  young  fellow  in  this  town  has  come 
to  me  a-courtin' — so  there  !  And  one  offers  me  a  gold  chain, 
and  another  a  gold  watch  :  '  Dear  little  Flore,  if  only  you 
would  come  away  from  that  old  idiot  of  a  Rouget,'  that  is  the 
sort  of  thing  they  say  of  you!  'What,  I!  leave  liim?  I 
should  think  so  1  such  an  innocent  as  that.  Why,  what  would 
become  of  him  !  '     I  have  always  answerd,  '  No,  no,  where  a 

Nanny  is  tethered  she  must  eat '  " 

"  Yes,  Flore,  I  have  no  one  in  the  world  but  you,  and 
I  am  only  too  happy.  If  it  will  give  you  pleasure,  child, 
we  will  have  Maxence  Gilet  in  the  house;  he  can  eat  with 

OS." 

"  By  heaven  !     I  should  hope  so  !  " 

"There,  there,  don't  be  angry " 

"Enough  for  one  is  enough  for  two,"  said  she,  laughing. 
"But  now,  if  you  are  very  nice,  do  you  know  what  you  will 
do,  my  dear  old  boy?  You  will  take  a  turn  in  front  of  the 
mayor's  at  about  four  o'clock,  and  manage  to  meet  Major 
Gilet,  and  ask  him  to  dinner.  If  he  makes  any  difficulties, 
tell  him  it  is  to  please  me ;  he  is  too  polite  to  refuse  that. 
And  then,  over  your  dessert,  if  he  talks  of  his  misfortunes, 
or  of  the  hulks — and  you  can  surely  have  sense  enough  to 
lead  up  to  the  subject — you  will  offer  him  a  home  here.     If 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISIJMEXT.  163 

he  makes  any  objection,  never  mind  ;  I  will  find  a  way  to 
persuade  him " 

As  he  slowly  paced  the  Boulevard  Baron,  Rouget,  so  far  as 
he  was  capable,  thought  over  this  incident.  If  he  were  to 
part  with  Flore — and  the  mere  idea  made  him  dizzy — what 
woman  could  he  find  to  take  her  place  ?  Marry  ?  At  his 
age  he  would  be  married  for  his  money,  and  even  more 
cruelly  handled  by  a  legitimate  wife  than  he  was  by  Flore. 
Moreover,  the  notion  of  being  bereft  of  her  affection,  even 
if  it  were  a  delusion,  was  intolerably  painful.  So  he  was  as 
charming  to  Major  Gilet  as  he  knew  how  to  be.  As  Flore 
had  wished,  the  invitation  was  given  in  the  presence  of  wit- 
nesses, so  as  to  leave  Max's  honor  clear. 

Flore  and  her  master  were  reconciled  ;  but  from  that  day 
Jean-Jacques  was  aware  of  shades  of  demeanor  proving  a 
complete  change  in  La  Rabouilleuse's  affection  for  him. 

For  about  a  fortnight  Flore  complained  loudly  to  the 
tradespeople,  at  market,  and  to  her  gossips,  of  Monsieur 
Rouget's  tyranny  in  taking  it  into  his  head  to  have  his  natural 
half-brother  under  his  roof.  But  no  one  was  taken  in  by  this 
farce,  and  Flore  was  considered  an  extremely  shrewd  and  wily 
creature. 

Old  Rouget  was  made  very  happy  by  the  installation  of 
Max  as  a  member  of  the  household,  for  in  him  he  had  a 
companion  who  was  most  carefully  attentive  to  him  without 
servility.  Gilet  chatted,  talked  politics,  and  sometimes  walked 
out  with  him. 

As  soon  as  the  officer  was  quite  at  home,  Flore  refused  to 
be  cook  any  longer;  "  kitchen  work  spoiled  her  hands,"  she 
said.  By  desire  of  the  grand  master  of  the  order,  La  Cog- 
nette  found  a  relation  of  her  own,  an  old  maid,  whose 
master,  a  cure,  had  just  died,  leaving  her  nothing,  an  excel- 
lent cook,  who  would  devote  herself  through  life  and  death 
to  Flore  and  Max.  And,  in  the  name  of  these  two  potentates, 
La  Cognette  could  promise  her  relation  a  pension  of  three 


104  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

hundred  francs  after  ten  years  of  good,  honest,  and  loyal 
service.  La  Vedie,  who  was  sixty,  was  remarkable  for  a  face 
deeply  marked  by  smallpox  and  of  suitable  ugliness. 

When  she  assumed  her  functions  Flore  became  Mademoi- 
selle Brazier.  She  wore  stays,  she  dressed  in  silk,  in  fine 
woolen  stuffs,  or  in  cambric,  according  to  the  season.  She 
had  collars,  costly  kerchiefs,  embroidered  caps  and  lace  tuck- 
ers, wore  dainty  boots,  and  kept  herself  in  an  elegant  and 
handsome  style  that  made  her  look  younger.  She  was  now 
like  a  rough  diamond  that  has  been  cut  and  set  by  the  jeweler 
to  show  off  its  value.  She  was  anxious  to  do  Max  credit. 
By  the  end  of  that  year,  1817,  she  had  procured  a  horse 
from  Bourges,  said  to  be  of  English  breed,  for  the  poor  major, 
who  was  tired  of  going  about  on  foot.  Max  had  picked  up 
in  the  neighborhood  a  man,  a  Pole  named  Kouski,  formerly  a 
lancer  in  the  Imperial  Guard,  and  now  reduced  to  misery,  who 
was  only  too  glad  to  find  a  berth  at  Monsieur  Rouget's  as 
the  major's  servant.  Max  was  Kouski's  idol,  especially  after 
the  fray  with  the  three  Royalists.  So  after  181 7  the  Rouget 
household  consisted  of  five  persons,  three  of  them  idle ;  and 
the  expenses  amounted  to  about  eight  thousand  francs  a  year. 

By  the  time  when  Madame  Bridau  came  back  to  Issoudun 
to  save  her  inheritance,  as  Maitre  Desroches  expressed  it,  so 
seriously  endangered,  Pere  Rouget,  as  he  was  commonly 
called,  had  by  degrees  lapsed  into  an  almost  vegetative  exist- 
ence. To  begin  with,  from  the  day  when  Max  was  at  home 
in  the  house,  Mademoiselle  Brazier  kept  house  with  quite  epis- 
copal luxury.  Rouget.  thus  led  into  higli  living,  and  tempted 
by  the  excellent  dishes  concocted  by  La  Vedie,  ate  more  and 
more  every  day.  Notwithstanding  such  abundant  and  nutri- 
tious feeding,  he  did  not  get  fat.  He  grew  every  day  more 
bent,  like  a  man  tired  out — perhaps  by  the  effort  of  digestion — 
and  his  eyes  sank  in  puffy  circles.  Still,  when,  in  his  walks, 
anyone  asked  after  his  health,  "I  never  was  better  in  my 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISH MK.XT.  1U5 

life,"  was  always  his  reply.  As  he  had  always  been  known 
to  have  a  most  limited  intellect,  the  gradual  deterioration  of 
his  faculties  was  not  observed.  His  love  for  Flore  was  the 
one  emotion  that  kept  him  alive;  he  existed  only  for  her; 
his  weakness  before  her  knew  no  measure ;  he  obeyed  her 
every  look  and  watched  this  creature's  movements  as  a  dog 
watches  his  master's  least  gesture.  And,  as  Madame  Hochon 
said,  Pere  Rouget  at  fifty-seven  looked  older  than  Monsieur 
Hochon,  who  was  eighty. 

As  may  easily  be  supposed,  Max's  rooms  were  worthy  of  so 
charming  a  youth.  And  in  six  years,  year  by  year,  the  major 
had  made  the  comfort  of  his  lodgings  more  perfect,  and  added 
grace  to  the  smallest  details,  as  much  for  his  own  sake  as  for 
Flore's.  Still  it  was  only  the  comfort  of  Issoudun ;  painted 
floors,  wall-papers  of  some  elegance,  mahogany  furniture,  mir- 
rors in  gilt  frames,  muslin  curtains  with  red  bands  to  loop 
them,  an  Arabian  bedstead  with  curtains  hung  as  a  country 
upholsterer  arranges  them  for  a  wealthy  bride,  and  which 
then  seemed  the  height  of  magnificence,  but  which  are  to 
be  seen  in  the  commonest  fashion-plates,  and  are  so  gen- 
eral now  that  in  Paris  even  petty  dealers  will  not  have 
them  when  they  marry.  Then — an  unheard-of  thing,  which 
gave  rise  to  much  talk  in  Issoudun — there  was  matting  on  the 
stairs,  to  deaden  noise  no  doubt  !  And,  in  fact,  Max,  as 
he  came  in  before  daybreak,  woke  nobody,  and  Rouget  never 
suspected  his  lodger's  share  in  the  dark  deeds  of  the  Knights 
of  Idlesse. 

At  about  eight  in  the  morning  Flore,  in  a  pretty  pink-striped 
cotton  wrapper  and  a  lace  cap,  her  feet  in  furred  slippers, 
gently  opened  Max's  bedroom  door,  but,  seeing  him  asleep, 
she  stood  a  moment  by  the  bed. 

"He  came  in  so  late,"  thought  she;  "at  half-past  three. 
A  man  must  be  made  of  iron  to  be  able  to  stand  such  racket 
as  that !  And  isn't  he  strong  too  ?  The  love  of  a  man  !  1 
wonder  what  they  were  doing  last  night !  " 


166  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"You,  my  little  Flore,"  said  Max,  waking  as  a  soldier 
wakes,  inured  by  the  vicissitudes  of  war  to  find  all  his  wits  and 
his  presence  of  mind  however  suddenly  he  may  be  roused. 

"  You  are  sleepy;  I  am  going " 


"  No,  stay ;  there  are  serious  things " 

"You  have  done  something  too  bad  last  night?" 

"  Ah,  pooh  !  The  matter  in  hand  concerns  that  old  fool. 
Look  here;  you  never  mentioned  his  family.  Well,  they  are 
coming  here — his  family  is  coming,  to  cut  us  out,  no  doubt." 

"  Oh,  I  will  give  them  a  startler  !  "  said  Flore. 

"Mademoiselle  Brazier,"  said  Max  gravely,  "matters  are 
too  serious  to  be  taken  at  a  rush.  Send  me  up  my  coffee ;  I 
will  have  it  in  bed,  where  I  will  consider  what  proceedings 

we  must  take Come  back  at  nine,  and  we  will  talk  it 

over.     Meanwhile  behave  as  if  you  had  heard  nothing." 

Startled  by  this  news,  Flore  left  Max,  and  went  to  make  his 
coffee  ;  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Baruch  rushed  in  and 
said  to  the  grand  master,  "  Fario  is  looking  for  his  cart." 

Max  was  dressed  in  live  minutes,  went  downstairs,  and  with 
an  air  of  lounging  for  his  pleasure,  made  his  way  to  the  foot 
of  the  tower  hill,  where  he  saw  a  considerable  crowd  assem- 
bled and  greatly  agitated. 

"  What  is  the  matter !  "  said  Max,  making  his  way  through 
the  mob  to  speak  to  the  Spaniard. 

Fario,  a  small,  shriveled  man,  was  ugly  enough  to  have 
been  a  grandee.  His  very  fiery,  very  small  eyes,  very  close 
together,  would  have  earned  him  at  Naples  a  reputation  for 
the  evil  eye.  The  little  man  seemed  gentle  because  he  was 
grave,  quiet,  and  slow  in  his  movements;  and  he  was  com- 
monly spoken  of  as  bonhomme,  good  old  Fario,  But  his  com- 
plexion, of  the  color  of  gingerbread,  and  his  gentle  manner, 
concealed  from  the  ignorant,  but  betrayed  to  the  knowing, 
his  character  as  a  half-Moorish  peasant  from  Grenada,  who 
had  not  yet  been  roused  from  his  torpid  indifference. 

"  But  are  you  sure,"  said  Max,  after  listening  to  the  lamen- 


A    BACHELOR'S   KSTA Hf.ISHMRNT.  IT,? 

tations  of  the  seed-merchant,  "that  you  brought  your  cart? 
\'\ix,  ihank  heaven,  we  have  no  thieves  in  Issouilun " 

'■  I  left  it  there " 

"But  if  the  horse  was  harnessed  to  it,  may  he  not  have 
gone  away  with  the  cart  ?  " 

"There  is  my  horse,"  said  Fario,  pointing  to  his  steed 
standing  harnessed  about  thirty  yards  off. 

Max  solemnly  went  to  the  spot,  so  as  to  be  able  by  looking 
up  to  see  the  foot  of  the  tower,  for  the  ])eopIe  had  collected 
at  the  bottom  of  the  hill.  Everybody  followed  him,  and  this 
was  what  the  rascal  wanted. 

"Has  any  one  by  mistake  put  a  cart  in  his  pocket?" 
cried  Frangois. 

"Come,  feel,  turn  them  out!"  said  Baruch.  Shouts  of 
laughter  rose  on  all  sides.  Fario  swore  ;  now  in  a  Spaniard 
an  oath  means  the  last  pitch  of  fury. 

"  Is  yours  a  light  cart  ?  "  asked  Max. 

"  Light?"  retorted  Pario.  "  \{  all  those  who  are  laugh- 
ing at  me  had  it  over  their  toes,  their  corns  would  not  hurt 
them  again." 

"Well,  but  it  must  be  devilish  light,"  replied  Max,  point- 
ing to  the  tower,  "  for  it  has  flown  to  the  top  of  the  hill." 

At  these  words  all  looked  up,  and  for  a  moment  there  was 
almost  a  riot  in  the  market-place.  Every  one  was  pointing 
to  this  magical  vehicle.     Every  tongue  was  wagging. 

"  The  devil  has  a  care  for  the  innkeepers,  who  are  all 
doomed  to  perdition,"  said  Goddet  to  the  speechless  owner; 
"he  wants  to  teach  you  not  to  leave  carts  about  instead  of 
putting  up  at  the  inn." 

At  this  speech  the  mob  howled,  for  Fario  was  reckoned 
miserly. 

"Come,  my  good  man,"  said  Max,  "do  not  lose  heart. 
We  will  go  up  and  see  how  the  cart  got  there.  The  deuce  is 
in  it!  We  will  lend  you  a  hand.  Will  you  come,  Baruch? 
You,"  he  added  in  a  whisper  to  Francois,  "  clear  every  one 


168  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

out  of  the  way,  and  mind  there  ia  no  une  blanding  below  when 
you  see  us  at  tlie  top." 

Fario,  with  Max,  Baruch,  and  three  more  of  the  knights, 
climbed  up  to  the  tower.  During  the  scramble,  which  was 
not  free  from  danger,  Max  remarked  to  Fario  that  there  were 
no  tracks,  nor  anything  to  show  how  the  cart  had  been  gotten 
up.  And  Fario  began  to  believe  in  some  magic  ;  he  had 
quite  lost  his  head.  On  reaching  the  top  and  examining  mat- 
ters, the  feat  seriously  seemed  quite  impossible. 

"And  how  shall  we  ever  get  il  down  again?"  said  the 
Spaniard,  whose  little  eyes  expressed  positive  terror,  while  his 
tawny  hollow  face,  which  looked  as  if  it  could  never  change 
color,  turned  pale. 

"  Well,"  said  Max,  "  I  see  no  difficulty  in  that." 

And  taking  advantage  of  Fario's  bewilderment,  he  took  the 
cart  up  by  the  shafts,  giving  it  a  tilt  with  his  strong  arms  so 
as  to  give  it  impetus ;  then,  at  the  moment  when  he  let  it  go, 
he  shouted  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  "  Look  out  below  !  "  But 
there  was  no  danger.  The  crowd,  warned  by  Francois,  and 
eager  with  curiosity,  had  withdrawn  to  a  little  distance  to  see 
what  was  going  on  on  the  knoll.  The  cart  smashed  in  pic- 
turesque style,  broken  into  a  thousand  pieces. 

"There,  it  is  down  again  !  "  said  Baruch. 

"Ah,  blackguards,  thieves,  villains!  "  yelled  Fario.  "It 
was  you  who  got  it  up,  I'll  be  bound  !  " 

Max,  Baruch,  and  their  three  comrades  began  to  laugh  at 
the  Spaniard's  abuse. 

"We  wanted  to  do  you  a  service,"  said  Max  haughtily. 
"  To  save  your  damned  cart  I  ran  tlie  risk  of  going  down  on 
the  top  of  it,  and  this  is  how  you  thank  me.  What  country 
do  you  come  from,  pray?  " 

"  From  a  country  where  we  do  not  forgive  an  injury," 
replied  Fario,  quivering  with  rage.  "  My  cart  may  serve  you 
a  turn  to  take  you  to  the  devil  !  Unless,"  he  added,  as  mild 
as  a  lamb,  "  you  like  to  replace  it  by  a  new  one  ?  " 


A  BACHELOirS   ESTABLISHMEXT.  1G9 

"  We  will  talk  aboui  u,"  said  Max,  going  down  the  hill. 

When  they  were  at  the  bottom,  and  had  rejuined  the  first 
group  of  laughers,  Max  took  Fario  by  the  jacket-button,  and 
said — 

"  Yes,  my  good  Fario,  I  will  make  you  a  present  of  a  splen- 
did cart  if  you  will  give  me  two  hundred  and  fifty  francs  ;  I 
won't  guarantee  that,  like  this  one,  it  is  warranted  for  a  tum- 
bler's trap." 

This  jest,  however,  touched  Fario  no  more  than  if  he  were 
concluding  an  ordinary  bargain. 

"Dame!"  he  replied  calmly,  "you  will  give  me  francs 
enough  to  replace  my  poor  cart,  and  you  will  never  spend 
Pere  Rouget's  money  in  a  better  cause." 

Max  turned  white  and  lifted  his  formidable  fist  to  strike 
Fario;  but  Baruch,  who  knew  that  such  a  blow  would  not  fall 
only  on  the  Spaniard,  whisked  him  off  like  a  feather,  saying 
to  Max  in  an  undertone,  "  Don't  play  the  fool !  " 

The  major,  recalled  to  order,  began  to  laugh,  and  said  to 
Fario,  "  Though  I  have  by  accident  damaged  your  cart,  you 
are  trying  to  slander  me,  so  we  are  quits." 

"Not  yet,"  muttered  Fario.  "But  I  am  glad  to  have 
found  out  what  my  cart  is  worth  !  " 

"Ah,  ha  !  Max,  you  have  found  your  match  !  "  said  a  by- 
stander, who  was  not  a  member  of  the  order. 

"  Good-by,  Monsieur  Gilet  ;  you  have  not  heard  the  last 
of  your  clever  crick  !  "  said  the  Spaniard,  mounting  his  horse 
and  disappearing  in  the  midst  of  a  loud  hurrah  ! 

"  I  will  keep  the  iron  tires  for  you,"  cried  a  wheelwright, 
who  had  come  up  to  study  the  effects  of  the  fall.  One  of  the 
shafts  was  standing  upright,  planted  in  the  ground  like  a  tree. 

Max  was  pale  and  thoughtful,  stung  to  the  heart  by  the 
Spaniard's  speech.  For  five  days  at  Issoudun  Fario's  cart  was 
the  talk  of  the  town.  It  was  fated  to  travel  far,  as  young 
Goddet  said,  for  it  made  the  round  of  the  province,  where  the 
pranks  of  Max  and  Baruch  were  much  discussed.     Hence, 


170  A   BACHELOR'S  E  STAB  LIS /IMF.  XT. 

even  a  week  after  tlie  event,  the  Spaniard  was  siill  the  talk  of 
the  departments  and  the  subject  of  nuicli  "-jaw,"  a  fact  tc 
which  he  was  keenly  alive.  Max  and  La  Rabouilleuse,  too, 
as  a  result  of  the  vindictive  Spaniard's  retort,  were  the  sub- 
ject of  endless  comments,  whispered  indeed  at  Issoudun,  but 
loudly  spoken  at  Bourges,  at  Vatan,  at  Vierzon,  and  at  Cha- 
teauroux.  Maxence  Gilet  knew  the  country  well  enough  to 
imagine  how  envenomed  these  remarks  must  be. 

"No  one  can  hinder  their  talking,"  thought  he.  "Ah! 
that  was  a  bad  night's  work." 

"  Well,  Max,"  said  Francois,  taking  his  arm,  "  they  are  to 
be  here  to-night." 

"Who?" 

"  The  Bridaus.  My  grandmother  has  just  had  a  letter 
from  her  goddaughter." 

"Listen  to  me,  my  boy,"  said  Max  in  his  ear ;  "I  have 
thought  this  business  over  very  seriously.  xVeither  Flore  nor 
I  must  appear  to  have  any  ill-feeling  towards  the  Bridaus.  If 
the  heirs  leave  Issouden,  it  is  your  people,  the  Hoclions,  who 
must  seem  to  be  the  cause.  Study  these  Paris  folks  well ;  and 
when  I  have  taken  their  measure,  to-morrow  at  La  Cognctte's 
we  will  see  what  can  be  done  with  them,  and  how  we  can 
make  a  breach  between  them  and  your  grandfather." 

"The  Spaniard  has  found  the  joint  in  Max's  harness," 
said  Baruch  to  his  cousin  Franq:ois  as  they  went  in,  looking  at 
his  friend  entering  Rouget's  door. 

While  Max  was  thus  occupied,  Flore,  notwithstanding  her 
companion's  counsel,  had  been  unable  to  control  her  rage; 
without  knowing  whether  she  was  seconding  or  interfering 
with  Max's  plans,  she  broke  out  against  the  poor  old  bach- 
elor. When  Jean-Jacques  incurred  his  nurse's  displeasure,  he 
found  himself  suddenly  bereft  of  all  the  little  cares  and 
vulgar  petting  which  were  the  joy  of  his  life.  In  short,  Flore 
put  her  master  in  disgrace.      No  more  little  affectionate  words 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISH  ME  NT.  171 

with  which  she  was  wont  to  grace  lier  conversation,  in  various 
tones,  with  more  or  less  tender  glances — my  puss,  my  chicken, 
my  good  old  dog,  my  spoilt  boy.  No  more  familiar  tu.  A 
vous,  short  and  cold,  and  ironically  respectful,  would  pierce 
the  unhappy  man's  heart  like  a  knife.  This  voiis  was  a  decla- 
ration of  war. 

Then,  instead  of  helping  him  to  dress,  giving  him  his 
things,  anticipating  his  wishes,  looking  at  him  with  the  sort 
of  admiration  women  know  how  to  convey — and  the  broader  it 
is,  the  more  gratifying — saying,  "You  are  as  fresh  as  a  rose  ! 
Come,  you  look  wonderfully  well !  How  fine  you  are,  old 
man  !  " — instead  of  entertaining  him  while  he  dressed  with 
the  fun  and  follies  that  amused  him,  Flore  left  him  to  manage 
for  himself.  If  he  called  her,  she  would  answer  from  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs — 

*'  Well,  I  can't  do  two  things  at  once — get  your  breakfast 
and  wait  on  you  in  your  room.  Aren't  you  old  enough  to 
dress  yourself?  " 

"  Good  God  !  How  have  I  offended  her?  "  the  old  fellow 
wondered,  on  receiving  one  of  these  rebuffs,  when  he  called 
for  some  hot  water  to  shave  himself. 

*■' Vedie,  take  up  some  hot  water  to  monsieur,"  cried 
Flore. 

"  Vedie  ?  "  said  the  poor  man,  bewildered  by  the  dread  of 
the  wrath  impending  over  him.  "  Vedie,  what  is  the  matter 
with  madame  this  morning?  " 

Flore  insisted  on  being  called  madame  by  her  master,  by 
Vedie,  Kouski,  and  Max. 

"She  has  heard  something  seemingly  not  much  to  your 
credit,"  replied  Vedie,  putting  on  a  very  pathetic  air.  "  You 
are  very  foolish,  monsieur.  There,  I  am  but  a  poor  servant, 
and  you  may  tell  me  not  to  be  poking  my  nose  into  your 
concerns;  but  you  may  hunt  through  all  the  women  in  tlie 
world,  like  the  king  in  Holy  Writ,  and  you  will  never  find  her 
like.     You  ought  to  kiss  the  place  where  she  has  set  her  foot. 


172  A  BACHELOR'^  ESTABLISHMENT. 

1  tell  you,  if  you  vex  her,  it  will  be  enough  to  break  your 
own  heart!"     And  there  really  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

Vedie  left  the  poor  man  quite  annihilated  ;  he  sank  into  a 
chair,  gazing  into  space  like  a  man  melancholy  mad,  and 
forgot  to  shave  himself.  These  alternations  of  hot  and  cold 
affected  the  poor  feeble  creature,  who  lived  only  through  his 
hold  on  love,  like  the  deadly  chill  produced  by  a  sudden 
passage  from  tropical  heat  to  polar  cold.  They  were  moral 
pleurisies  which  exhausted  him  like  so  many  illnesses.  Flore 
only  in  the  whole  world  could  act  upon  him  so,  for  to  her 
alone  he  was  as  kind  as  he  was  silly. 

"What!  You  have  not  shaved  yet?"  said  she,  opening 
the  door.  She  made  Pere  Rouget  start  violently  ;  from  being 
pale  and  limp,  he  suddenly  turned  red  for  a  moment,  but 
dared  not  resent  this  attack. 

"  Your  breakfast  is  waiting.  But  you  may  go  down  in 
your  dressing-gown  and  slippers — you  will  breakfast  by  your- 
self." 

And  she  vanished  without  waiting  for  a  reply.  To  make 
the  poor  man  breakfast  alone  was  one  of  the  punishments 
which  most  deeply  distressed  him  ;  he  liked  to  talk  while  he 
was  eating.  As  he  reached  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  Rouget 
was  seized  with  a  fit  of  coughing,  for  excitement  had  stirred 
his  rheum. 

"Oh,  yes,  you  may  cough  !  "  said  Flore  in  the  kitchen, 
not  caring  whether  her  master  heard  her  or  not.  "  My  word  ! 
the  old  wretch  is  strong  enough  to  weather  it  without  any  one 
troubling  theirselves  about  him  !  If  he  ever  coughs  his  soul 
up,  it  won't  be  in  our  time." 

Such  were  the  amenities  with  which  La  Rabouilleuse  favored 
Rouget  in  her  fits  of  rage.  The  poor  man  sat  down  in  deep 
dejection  at  a  corner  of  the  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
looking  at  his  old  furniture  and  old  pictures  with  a  desolate 
air. 

"  You  might  have  put  on  a  necktie  !  "  said  Flore,  coming 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  173 

in.  "  Do  you  think  a  neck  like  yours  is  pretty  to  see — redder 
and  more  wrinkled  than  a  turkey-cock's." 

"  But  what  have  I  done  ?"  he  a^ked,  raising  his  pale  green 
eyes  full  of  tears,  and  confronting  Flore's  cold  look. 

"What  have  you  done?"  she  echoed.  "And  you  don't 
know  ?  What  a  hypocrite  !  Why,  your  sister  Agathe — who 
is  as  much  your  sister  as  I  am  sister  to  the  tower  of  Issoudun, 
if  you  can  believe  your  father,  and  who  is  nothing  on  earth 
to  you — is  coming  from  Paris  with  her  son,  that  wretched 
tu'penny  painter,  and  they're  coming  to  see  you " 

"  My  sister  and  nephews  are  coming  to  Issoudun?"  said 
he,  quite  bewildered. 

"Oh,  yes;  you  may  pretend  to  be  astonished,  to  make  me 
believe  that  you  did  not  write  to  them  to  come  !  That  is  a 
very  tliin  trick.  Don't  be  afraid,  we  won't  interfere  with 
your  Paris  friends,  for  we  shall  have  shaken  the  dust  off  our 
feet  before  they  set  theirs  within  these  walls  !  Max  and  I 
shall  be  gone  never  to  return  !  As  to  your  will — I  will  tear 
it  in  four  quarters  under  your  nose,  under  your  beard,  do  you 
hear?  You  may  leave  your  goods  to  your  family,  as  we  are 
not  your  family.  After  that  you  will  see  whether  you  are 
loved,  for  your  own  sake,  by  people  who  have  not  seen  you 
for  thirty  years,  or  have  never  seen  you  at  all  !  Your  sister 
will  not  fill  my  place — a  double-distilled  bigot !  " 

"If  that  is  all,  my  pretty  Flore,"  said  the  old  man,  "I 
shall  see  neither  my  sister  nor  my  nephews.  I  swear  to  you 
solemnly  that  this  is  the  first  word  I  have  heard  of  their 
arrival,  and  it  is  a  gotten-up  thing  arranged  by  Madame 
Hochon,  the  old  bigot " 

Max,  who  had  heard  Pere  Rouget's  reply,  suddenly  came 
in,  saying  in  a  hectoring  tone,  "  What  is  the  matter?  " 

"  My  good  Max,"  the  old  man  went  on,  only  too  glad  to 
purchase  the  major's  adhesion,  for,  by  agreement  with  Fiorc, 
he  was  always  to  fake  Rouget's  part,  •'  I  swear  to  you,  by  all 
that  is  sacred,  that  1  have  only  this  instant  heard  the  news. 


174  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

I  never  wrote  to  iny  sister;  my  father  made  me  promise  to 
leave  her  nothing,  to  give  it  rather  to  the  church — in  short, 
I  refuse  to  see  either  my  sister  Agathe  or  her  sons." 

"  Your  father  was  wrong,  my  dear  Jean-Jacques,  and 
madame  is  yet  more  wrong,"  replied  Max.  "Your  father 
had  his  own  reasons — he  is  dead,  his  hatred  ought  to  die  with 
him.  Your  sister  is  your  sister,  your  nephews  are  your 
nephews.  You  owe  it  to  yourself  to  receive  them  cordially, 
and  you  owe  it  to  us  too.  Wliat  would  be  said  in  Issoudun  ? 
Sss — thunder  !  I  have  enough  on  my  shoulders ;  the  only 
thing  wanting  is  to  give  rise  to  a  report  that  we  keep  you  shut 
up,  that  you  are  not  a  free  agent,  that  we  have  incensed  you 
against  your  heirs,  that  we  are  trying  to  possess  ourselves  of 

your  fortune The  devil  may  take  me  if  I  don't  desert 

from  the  service  at  the  very  next  calumny ;  one  is  quite 
enough  !     Let  us  have  breakfast." 

Flore,  as  meek  as  a  mouse,  helped  Vedie  to  lay  the  table. 
Rouget,  filled  with  admiration  for  Max,  took  him  by  both 
hands,  led  him  into  a  window  bay,  and  said  to  him  in  an 
undertone — 

"  Ah,  Max,  if  I  had  a  son,  I  should  not  love  him  so  well 
as  I  love  you.     Flore  was  right  in  saying  that  you  two  are  my 

family You  have  a  sense  of  honor,   Max,  and  all  you 

have  said  is  very  right " 

"You  ought  to  entertain  your  sister  and  your  nephew," 
said  Max,  interrupting  him,  "but  ought  not  to  alter  your 
will ;  thus  you  will  satisfy  your  father  and  everybody  else." 

"  Come,  my  little  dears!  "  cried  Flore,  in  cheerful  tones, 
"  the  salmis  will  be  cold.  There,  old  boy,  there  is  a  wing 
for  you,"  she  said,  smiling  on  Jean -Jacques. 

At  this  speech  the  old  fellow's  long  face  lost  its  cadaverous 
tints,  a  treacly  smile  played  on  his  flabby  lips ;  but  he 
coughed  again,  for  the  joy  of  being  received  anew  into  favor 
excited  him  as  greatly  as  being  in  disgrace.  Flore  sprang  up, 
snatched    a   little    cashmere   shawl    off    her   shoulders,    and 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISH MEXT.  175 

wrapped  it  round  the  old  man's  throat  as  a  comforicr,  spy- 
ing— 

"It  is  silly  to  upset  yourself  so  over  trifles.  Here,  foolish 
old  boy,  that  will  do  you  good — it  has  been  next  to  my 
heart " 

'•What  a  good  soul!  "  said  Rougct  to  Max,  while  Flore 
went  off  for  a  black  velvet  cap  to  cover  the  old  fellow's 
almost  bald  head. 

"As  good  as  she  is  handsome,"  gallantly  replied  Max; 
"  but  a  little  hasty,  like  all  those  who  tarry  their  heart  in 
their  hand." 

The  reader  may  feel  inclined  to  find  fault  with  the  crudities 
of  this  picture,  and  to  think  that  the  displays  of  La  Rabouil- 
leuse's  temper  are  marked  by  some  truths  which  the  painter 
should  leave  in  the  shade.  Well ;  this  scene,  a  hundred 
times  repealed  with  horrible  variations,  is  in  all  its  coarse  and 
repulsive  veraciousness  the  type  of  that  which  every  woman 
will  play,  on  whatever  rung  of  the  social  ladder  she  may 
stand,  if  any  kind  of  self-interest  has  diverted  her  from  the 
path  of  obedience,  and  she  has  seized  the  reins  of  power.  To 
women  as  to  great  politicians — the  end  justifies  any  means. 
Between  Flore  Brazier  and  a  duchess,  between  the  duchess 
and  the  richest  tradesman's  wife,  between  the  tradesman's 
wife  and  the  most  splendidly  kept  woman,  there  are  no  differ- 
ences but  those  due  to  education  and  to  the  atmosphere  in 
which  they  live.  A  fine  lady's  sulks  take  the  place  of 
Flore's  violence;  in  every  rank  bitter  taunts,  witty  sarcasm, 
cold  disdain,  hypocritical  whining,  and  affected  quarrels  are 
quite  as  successful  as  the  low  abuse  of  this  Madame  Everard 
of  Issoudun. 

Max  told  the  story  of  Fario  with  so  much  drollery  that  he 
made  the  old  fellow  laugh.  Vedie  and  Kouski,  who  had 
come  up  to  listen  to  the  tale,  exploded  in  the  passage.  As 
for  Flore,  she  laughed  hysterically.  After  breakfast,  while 
Jean-Jacques  was  reading  the  papers — for  they  now  subscribed 


176  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

to  the  Constiiutionncl  and  the  Pandore — Max  took  Flore  up 
to  his  room. 

"Are  you  certain,"  said  he,  "that  he  has  never  made 
another  will  since  he  named  you  as  his  legatee  ?  " 

"He  has  no  writing  things,"  said  she. 

"He  may  have  dictated  one  to  some  notary,"  said  Max. 
"  If  he  has  not  done  so,  we  must  be  prepared  for  tlic  con- 
tingency. So  receive  the  Bridaus  as  well  as  possible;  but 
meanwhile  we  must  try,  as  soon  as  we  can,  to  realize  all  the 
money  out  on  mortgage.  Our  notaries  will  be  only  too 
glad  to  effect  the  transfers ;  that  is  what  they  eat  and  drink 
by.  State  securities  are  going  up  every  day ;  we  are  to  con- 
quer Spain  and  deliver  Ferdinand  VH.  from  his  Cortes,  so 
next  year  they  may  perhaps  be  above  par.  So  it  will  be  a 
good  stroke  of  business  to  invest  the  old  man's  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty  thousand  francs  in  the  funds  at  89.  Only  try 
and  get  them  put  into  your  name.  It  will  always  be  some- 
thing saved  from  the  fire." 

"  A  capital  idea,"  said  Flore. 

"And  as  on  eight  hundred  and  ninety  thousand  francs  he 
will  draw  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year,  you  must  get  him  to 
borrow  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand  francs  for  two  years,  to 
be  repaid  in  two  installments.  Thus  in  two  years  we  shall  be 
drawing  a  hundred  thousand  francs  from  Paris  and  ninety 
thousand  here,  so  we  risk  nothing." 

"  Without  you,  my  splendid  Max,  what  would  have  become 
of  us?  "  said  she. 

"Oh,  to-morrow  evening,  at  La  Cognette's,  after  I  have 
seen  this  Paris  couple,  I  will  find  some  means  of  making 
the   Hochons  themselves  see  them  off  the  premises." 

"Oh,  you  are  so  clever!  You  arc  an  angel,  a  love  of 
a  man  !  " 

The  Place  Saint-Jean  is  situated  half-way  down  a  street 
called  La  Grande  Narettc  in  the  upper  part,  and  La  Petite 


A   BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT.  U7 

Narette  below.  In  Berry  the  word  Narette  means  the 
same  sort  of  highway  as  the  Genoese  Salita,  a  street 
built  on  a  steep  slope.  Between  the  Place  Saint-Jean 
and  the  Vilatte  gate,  the  Narette  is  excessively  steep. 
Old  Monsieur  Hochon's  house  is  opposite  to  that  where 
lived  Jean- Jacques  Rouget.  What  was  going  on  at  Pere 
Roiiget's  could  often  be  seen  out  of  the  drawing-room  window 
where  Madame  Hochon  sat,  and  vice  versa  when  the  curtains 
were  undrawn  or  the  doors  left  open. 

Hochon's  house  is  so  much  like  Rouget's  that  they  were, 
no  doubt,  built  by  the  same  architect.  Hochon,  long  ago  the 
collector  of  taxes  at  Selles,  was  born  at  Issoudun,  and  re- 
turned thither  to  marry  the  sister  of  the  sub-delegate,  the 
gallant  Lousteau,  exchanging  his  post  at  Selles  for  a  similar 
one  at  Issoudun.  He  had  retired  before  1787,  and  so  es- 
caped the  storms  of  the  Revolution,  while  fully  supporting 
its  principles,  like  all  honest  men  who  shout  on  the  winning 
side.  It  was  not  for  nothing  that  Monsieur  Hochon  had  a 
reputation  for  avarice.  But  would  it  not  be  mere  vain  repe- 
tition to  describe  him?  One  of  the  miserly  acts  which  made 
him  famous  will  no  doubt  be  enough  to  paint  Monsieur  Ho- 
chon at  full  length. 

At  the  time  of  his  daughter's  marriage  to  a  Borniche — she 
has  since  died — it  was  necessary  to  give  a  dinner  to  the 
Borniche  family.  The  bridegroom,  who  ex])ected  to  inherit 
a  fine  fortune,  died  soon  after  of  grief  at  having  failed  in 
business,  and  yet  more  at  his  father's  and  mother's  refusal  to 
help  him.  These  old  Borniches  were  still  living,  delighted 
to  have  seen  Monsieur  Hochon  take  the  guardianship  of  his 
grandchildren  on  account  of  his  daughter's  settlement,  which 
he  had  succeeded  in  saving. 

On  the  day  when  the  marriage  contract  was  to  be  signed, 

all    the    relations    of    both    families    had    assembled    in    the 

drawing-room — the  Horhons  on  one  side  and  the  Borniches 

on  the  other,  all  in  their  Sunday  best.     In  the  midst  of  read- 

12 


17S  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

ing  the  contract,  very  solemnly  performed  by  young  Heron 
the  notary,  the  cook  came  in  and  asked  Monsieur  Hochoa 
for  some  pack-thread  to  truss  the  turkey — an  important  item 
in  the  bill  of  fare.  The  old  tax-collector  pulled  out  of  the 
depths  of  his  coat-pocket  an  end  of  string,  which  had,  no 
doubt,  tied  up  some  parcel,  and  gave  it  to  her ;  but  before 
the  woman  had  reached  the  door,  he  called  out,  "  Gritte,  let 
me  have  it  back  !  "  Gritte  is  a  local  abbreviation  of  Mar- 
guerite. 

This  will  enable  you  to  understand  Monsieur  Hochon,  and 
the  joke  perpetrated  by  the  town  on  the  name  of  the  family, 
consisting  of  the  father,  mother,  and  three  children — les  cinq 
cochons,  the  five  pigs. 

As  years  went  by  old  Hochon  became  more  and  more  nig- 
gardly and  careful,  and  he  was  now  eighty-five  years  of  age. 
He  was  one  of  those  who  will  stoop  in  the  street  in  tiie  midst 
of  an  animated  conversation  to  pick  up  a  pin,  saying,  "That 
is  a  woman's  wage  !  "  and  stick  it  into  his  coat  cuff.  He  com- 
plained bitterly  of  the  inferior  quality  of  cloth  nowadays, 
remarking  that  his  coat  had  lasted  only  ten  years.  Tall,  lean, 
and  bony,  with  a  yellow  complexion,  speaking  little,  reading 
little,  never  fatiguing  himself,  as  ceremonious  as  an  Oriental, 
he  maintained  the  rule  of  strict  sobriety  in  his  houseliold, 
doling  out  food  and  drink  to  his  fairly  numerotis  family,  con- 
sisting of  his  wife  nee  Lousteau,  of  his  grandson  Baruch  and 
granddaughter  Adolphine,  the  heirs  of  the  old  Borniches, 
and  of  his  other  grandson,  Fran(;ois  Hochon. 

His  eldest  son,  caught  for  the  army  in  1813  by  the  levy  of 
men  of  respectable  birth  wlio  escaped  the  conscription,  and 
who  were  enrolled  under  the  name  of  guards  of  honor,  was 
killed  at  the  battle  of  Hanau.  The  heir-presumptive  had 
married,  very  young,  a  rich  woman,  hoping  to  evade  any  call 
to  arms ;  but  then  he  ran  through  all  his  money,  foreseeing 
the  end.  His  wife,  who  followed  the  French  army  at  a  dis- 
tance, died  at   Strasbourg  in    1814,  leaving  debts  which  old 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHM!:  XT.  170 

Hochon  would  not  pay,  quoting  to  the  creditors  the  axiom 
of  a  past  code,  '*  Women  are  minors." 

So  folks  could  still  say  les  cinq  Hochons,  since  the  household 
consisted  of  three  grandchildren  and  two  grandparents ;  and 
the  jest  still  survived,  for  in  the  country  no  jest  grows  too 
stale.  Gritte,  now  sixty  years  old,  managed  all  the  work  of 
the  house. 

The  house,  though  spacious,  was  scantily  furnished.  How- 
ever, Madame  Bridau  could  be  very  decently  lodged  in  two 
rooms  on  the  third  floor.  Old  Hochon  now  repented  of 
having  kept  two  beds  in  these  rooms,  and  belonging  to  each 
an  old  armchair  in  unvarnished  wood,  with  a  worsted-work 
seat,  and  a  walnut-wood  table,  on  which  stood  a  wide-mouthed 
water  jug  in  a  basin  edged  with  blue.  The  old  man  kept  his 
apples  and  winter  pears,  his  quinces  and  medlars,  on  straw  in 
these  two  rooms,  where  the  rats  and  mice  had  a  high  time, 
and  there  was  a  strong  flavor  of  fruit  and  mice.  Madame 
Hochon  had  everything  cleaned  ;  the  paper,  where  it  had 
fallen  from  the  walls,  was  stuck  on  again  with  wafers;  she 
furnished  the  windows  with  muslin  blinds  cut  out  of  some 
old  skirts  of  her  own.  Then,  when  her  husband  refused  to 
buy  two  little  list  rugs,  she  placed  her  own  bedside  rug  for  her 
little  Agathe,  talking  of  this  mother  of  past  seven-and-forty 
as  "Poor  child!  " 

Madame  Hochon  borrowed  two  bed-tables  from  the  Bor- 
niches,  and  most  daringly  hired  from  a  second-hand  store  two 
old  chests  of  drawers  with  brass  handles.  She  possessed  two 
pairs  of  candlesticks,  made  of  some  scarce  wood  by  her  father, 
who  had  had  a  passion  for  turning.  From  1770  to  1780  it 
had  been  the  fashion  among  rich  people  to  learn  a  trade  \  and 
Monsieur  Lousteau  the  elder,  head  commissioner  of  subsi- 
dies, was  a  turner,  as  Louis  XVI.  was  a  locksmith.  These 
candlesticks  were  decorated  with  rings  in  briar-root,  peach, 
and  apricot  wood.  Madame  Hochon  risked  these  precious 
relics  1 


180  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLTSHMENT. 

All  these  preparations  and  this  great  sacrifice  added  to 
Monsieur  Hochon's  serious  mien  ;  he  did  not  yet  believe  that 
the  Bridaus  would  come. 

On  the  very  morning  of  the  day  made  famous  by  the  trick 
played  on  Fario,  Madame  Hochon  said  to  her  husband  after 
breakfast — 

"I  hope,  Hochon,  that  you  will  make  Madame  Bridau,  my 
goddaughter,  properly  welcome."  Then,  after  assuring  her- 
self that  her  grandchildren  had  left  the  room,  she  added  :  "  I 
am  mistress  of  my  own  fortune ;  do  not  compel  me  to  indem- 
nify Agathe  by  my  will  for  an  unpleasant  reception." 

"And  do  you  suppose,  madame,"  said  Hochon  gently, 
"  that  at  my  age  I  do  not  know  how  to  behave  with  decent 
civility." 

"You  know  very  well  what  I  mean,  old  fox  !  Be  kind  to 
our  guests,  and  remember  how  truly  I  love  Agathe " 

"  Yes,  and  you  truly  loved  Maxence  Gilet,  who  is  going  to 
swallow  whole  the  fortune  that  ought  to  be  your  Agathe's. 
Ah  !  you  cherished  a  serpent  in  your  bosom  then  !  After  all, 
the  Rougets'  money  was  fated  to  belong  to  some  Lousteau  or 
another." 

Having  made  this  allusion  to  the  supposed  parentage  of 
Agathe  and  of  Max,  Hochon  was  about  to  leave  the  room  ; 
but  old  Madame  Hochon,  still  slender  and  upright,  wearing 
a  mob  cap  with  bows,  and  her  hair  powdered,  with  a  shot- 
silk  petticoat,  tight  sleeves,  and  high-heeled  slippers,  set  her 
snuff-box  down  on  her  little  table,  and  said — 

"  Really,  Monsieur  Hochon,  how  can  a  clever  man  like 
you  repeat  the  nonsense  wliich,  unluckily,  destroyed  my  poor 
friend's  peace  of  mind,  and  cost  my  poor  goddaughter  her 
share  of  her  father's  fortune  ?  Max  Gilet  is  not  my  brother's 
son,  and  I  often  advised  him  to  save  the  money  he  spent  on 
him.  And  you  know  as  well  as  T  do  that  Madame  Rouget 
was  virtue  itself " 

"  Well,  the  daughter  is  worthy  of  her  mother,  for  she  seems 


A   BACHELOR- S  FSTAnUSHMFNT.  181 

to  me  a  great  goose.  After  losing  all  her  money,  she  brought 
up  her  sons  so  well  that  one  of  them  is  in  prison  awaiting  his 
trial  before  the  supreme  court  for  a  conspiracy  a  la  Berton. 
As  to  the  other — worse  and  worse  !  he  is  a  painter.  If  your 
])roteges  remain  here  till  they  have  extracted  that  idiot  Ronget 
from  the  clutches  of  La  Rabouilleuse  and  Gilet,  we  shall  get 
through  more  than  one  bushel  of  salt  with  them." 

"  That  will  do,  Monsieur  Hochon  ;  but  you  might  wish 
them  success  !  " 

Monsieur  Hochon  took  up  his  hat  and  his  ivory-handled 
cane,  and  went  out,  amazed  by  this  alarming  speech,  for  he 
had  not  supposed  his  wife  to  be  so  determined.  Madame 
Hochon,  on  her  part,  took  her  prayer-book  to  read  the  order 
of  service,  her  great  age  hindering  her  from  going  to  mass 
every  morning.  It  was  with  difficulty  that  she  got  to  church 
on  Sundays  and  high  festivals.  Since  receiving  Agathe's  re- 
ply she  had  added  to  her  regular  prayers  a  special  intercession, 
beseeching  God  to  open  the  eyes  of  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  to 
bless  Agathe,  and  to  grant  success  to  the  undertaking  to 
which  she  had  been  driven. 

Concealing  the  fact  from  her  two  grandsons,  whom  she 
regarded  as  parpaillots  (renegades),  she  had  requested  the 
cure  to  say  masses  for  nine  days,  attended  by  her  grand- 
daughter Adolphine  Borniche,  who  put  up  her  grandmother's 
prayers  in  the  church  as  her  proxy. 

Adolphine,  now  eighteen,  having  stitched  by  her  grand- 
mother's side  for  seven  years,  in  this  chill  home  of  methodical 
and  melancholy  regularity,  was  all  the  more  ready  to  perform 
the  novena,  because  she  hoped  to  inspire  some  tender  feel- 
ing in  Joseph  Bridau,  the  painter  so  little  understood  by 
Monsieur  Hochon,  and  in  whom  she  took  a  keen  interest, 
were  it  only  on  account  of  the  monstrous  ideas  her  grand- 
father attributed  to  the  young  Paris  artist. 

Old  people,  wise  people,  the  magnates  of  the  town,  and 
fathers  of  families,  all  approved  of  Madame  Hochon 's  con- 


182  ,  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABf.ISHMENT. 

duct  ;  and  their  good-wishes  for  her  goddaughter  and  for 
Agathe's  sons  were  reinforced  by  the  secret  contempt  they 
had  long  felt  for  the  proceedings  of  Maxence  Gilet.  So  the 
advent  of  Pere  Rouget's  sister  and  nephew  gave  rise  to  two 
factions  in  Issoudun  :  that  of  the  older  and  upper  citizen 
class,  who  could  only  watch  events  and  hope  for  the  best 
without  helping  matters  ;  and  that  of  the  Knights  of  Idlesse 
and  Max's  partisans,  who  were,  unfortunately,  capable  of 
doing  much  mischief  to  undermine  the  Parisians. 

On  this  day,  then,  Agathe  and  Joseph  got  out  of  the  coach 
at  the  office  of  the  Messageries,  Place  Misere,  at  three  in  the 
afternoon.  Though  tired,  Madame  Biidau  felt  young  again 
at  the  sight  of  her  native  town,  where  at  every  step  she  found 
some  reminiscence  and  impression  of  her  girlhood.  In  the 
state  of  mind  prevailing  at  Issoudun  the  arrival  of  the  Paris- 
ians was  known  all  over  the  town  within  ten  minutes. 

Madame  Hochon  appeared  at  the  front  gate  to  receive  her 
goddaughter,  and  kissed  her  as  if  she  had  been  a  child  of  her 
own.  After  seventy-two  years  of  a  life  as  empty  as  it  was 
monotonous,  with  nothing  to  look  back  upon  but  the  coffins 
of  her  three  children,  all  dying  in  misfortune,  she  had  culti- 
vated a  sort  of  artificial  motherhood  for  the  girl  who,  as  she 
expressed  it,  had  for  sixteen  years  lived  in  her  pocket.  In 
the  gloom  of  a  provincial  life  she  had  cherished  this  old 
regard,  this  child's  life,  and  all  its  memories,  just  as  if  Agathe 
were  still  with  her,  and  she  took  a  passionate  interest  in  all 
that  concerned  the  Bridaus. 

Agathe  was  led  in  triumph  into  the  drawing-room,  where 
worthy  Monsieur  Hochon  stood  as  cold  as  a  rakcd-out  oven. 

"  Here  is  Monsieur  Hochon  ;  how  do  you  think  he  is 
looking  ?  " 

"  Why,  exactly  as  he  did  when  I  left  him,"  said  Agathe. 

"  Ah,  it  is  evident  you  have  come  from  Paris,  you  pay 
compliments,"  said  the  old  man. 


A   BACIlEI.OirS  ESTABLISHMENT.  1S3 

The  family  v.-ere  tlien  introduced  :  first,  Baruch  Rorniche, 
a  tall  youth  of  two-and-twcnty  ;  then  Francois  Hochon,  now 
twenty-four;  and  lastly,  little  Adolphine,  who  blushed,  and 
did  not  know  what  to  do  with  her  hands,  and  especially 
with  her  eyes,  for  she  did  not  wish  to  appear  to  stare  at  Joseph 
Bridau,  who  was  anxiously  examined  by  the  two  lads  and  by 
old  Hochon,  but  from  different  points  of  view.  The  miser 
was  reflecting,  "  He  must  have  just  come  out  of  the  hospital ; 
he  will  eat  like  a  fever-patient." 

The  two  young  men  were  saying  to  themselves,  ''What  a 
brigand  !     What  a  head  !     We  shall  have  our  hands  full !  " 

"Here  is  my  son  the  painter,  my  good  Joseph,"  said 
Agathe  finally,  introducing  the  artist. 

There  was  a  little  sigh  in  the  emphasis  on  the  word  "•  good," 
which  betrayed  Agathe's  heart ;  she  was  thinking  of  the  pris- 
oner at  the  Luxembourg. 

"  He  looks  ill,"  cried  Madame  Hochon  ;  "  he  is  not  like 
you " 

"No,  madame,"  said  Josejih,  with  the  rough  simplicity  of 
an  artist,  "  I  am  like  my  father,  only  uglier  !  " 

Madame  Hochon  pressed  Agathe's  hand,  which  she  was 
holding,  and  gave  her  a  look.  That  grasp,  that  glance  were 
meant  to  convey — 

"  Ah,  my  child,  I  quite  understand  your  preferring  that 
scapegrace  Philippe." 

"I  never  saw  your  father,  my  dear  boy,"  replied  Madame 
Hochon  aloud ;  "  but  that  you  are  your  mother's  son  is 
enough  to  make  me  love  you.  Besides,  you  have  talent,  from 
what  the  late  Madame  Descoings  used  to  write  to  me  ;  she 
was  the  only  person  to  give  me  any  news  of  you  in  these 
latter  times." 

"Talent?"  said  the  artist;  "no,  not  yet;  but  with  time 
and  perseverance  I  may  some  day  win  both  glory  and 
fortune." 

"  By  painting?"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  with  deep  irony. 


184  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  Come,  Adolphine,"  said  Madame  Hochon.  '•'  go  and  see 
about  getting  the  dinner  served." 

**  Mother,"  said  Joseph,  "  I  will  go  and  carry  up  our 
trunks,  which  have  just  come." 

"  Hochon,  will  you  show  Monsieur  Bridau  the  rooms,"  said 
the  grandmother  to  Frangois. 

As  dinner  was  not  till  four,  and  it  was  now  but  half-past 
three,  Baruch  went  round  the  town  giving  news  of  the  Bridaus' 
arrival,  describing  Agathe's  dress,  and  above  all,  Joseph, 
whose  hollow  cheeks  and  sickly,  strongly  marked  features 
were  like  the  ideal  portrait  of  a  brigand.  In  every  house 
that  day  Joseph  was  the  sole  subject  of  conversation. 

"  Old  Rouget's  sister  must  have  met  an  ape  somewhere  be- 
fore her  son  was  born  ;  he  is  just  like  a  monkey."  "  He  has  a 
face  like  a  brigand,  and  eyes  like  a  basilisk."  "  They  say  he 
is  extraordinary  to  behold,  quite  alarming."  "  All  Paris  artists 
are  the  same."  "They  are  as  spiteful  as  cunning  asses,  and 
as  vicious  as  apes."  "It  is  in  the  nature  of  their  calling." 
"  I  have  just  seen  Monsieur  Beaussier,  who  says  he  would  not 
for  worlds  meet  him  at  night  in  a  wood.  He  saw  him  in  the 
diligence."  "  He  has  hollows  in  his  face  like  a  horse,  and  he 
waves  his  arms  like  a  madman."  "  That  fellow  is  capable  of 
any  crime;  it  is  his  fault,  perhaps,  that  his  brother,  who  was 
a  fine  handsome  man,  has  gone  to  the  bad.  Poor  Madame 
Bridau,  she  does  not  look  very  happy  with  him.  Suppose 
we  take  advantage  of  his  being  here  to  have  our  likenesses 
drawn  ?  " 

The  result  of  these  opinions,  sown  broadcast  in  the  town  as 
if  bv  the  winds,  was  a  devouring  curiosity.  All  wlio  had  a 
right  to  call  on  the  Hochons  promised  themselves  that  they 
would  do  so  that  evening,  to  inspect  the  Parisians.  The 
arrival  of  these  two  persons  in  a  stagnant  town  like  Issoudun 
was  as  startling  as  the  fall  of  the  log  among  the  frogs. 

After  placing  his  mother's  luggage  and  his  own  in  the  two 
attic  rooms,  and   looking    round   them,  Joseph  studied    the 


A   BACHELOR'S  F.STABLISIIMENT.  1.9.^) 

silent  house,  where  the  stairs,  walls,  and  panels,  bare  of 
adornment,  shed  a  chill,  and  there  was  not  a  thing  beyond 
what  was  strictly  necessary.  But  when,  on  going  downstairs, 
he  found  Monsieur  Hochon  himself  cutting  a  slice  of  bread 
for  each  person,  he  understood  for  the  first  time  Moliere's 
"  Harpagon." 

"  We  should  have  done  better  at  the  inn,"  thought  he. 
The  dinner  confirmed  his  apprehensions.  After  a  souj), 
so  thin  that  quantity  was  evidently  preferred  to  quality,  a 
dish  of  bouilli  was  served — fresh-boiled  beef — triumphantly 
wreathed  with  parsley.  The  vegetables  cooked  with  it,  served 
in  a  separate  dish,  were  part  of  the  bill  of  fare.  The  meat 
crowned  the  table,  and  was  flanked  by  three  other  disiies ; 
hard  eggs  on  sorrel  opposite  the  vegetables,  and  a  salad, 
ready  dressed  with  nut-oil,  opposite  little  cups  of  custard 
flavored  with  burnt  oats  as  a  substitute  for  vanilla — as  much 
like  vanilla  as  chicory  is  like  Mocha.  Butter,  and  radislies 
on  little  plates  at  the  opposite  ends,  black  radishes  and  gher- 
kins, completed  the  display,  which  Madame  Hochon  highly 
approved.  The  good  old  lady  nodded  at  her  husband,  as  a 
hostess  happy  to  see  that,  at  any  rate  for  the  first  day,  he  had 
done  things  in  style.  The  old  man  responded  with  a  look 
and  a  shrug,  easily  interpreted  to  mean — 

"You  see  what  recklessness  you  lead  me  into  !  " 
As  soon  as  the  bouilli  had  been  dissected  by  Monsieur 
Hochon  into  slices  as  thin  as  the  sole  of  your  slipper,  it  was 
removed  to  make  way  for  three  pigeons.  The  wine  was  of 
the  vintage  of  1811.  At  a  hint  from  her  grandmother,  Adol- 
phine  had  graced  each  end  of  the  table  with  a  bunch  of 
flowers. 

"Well,  make  the  best  of  a  bad  job!  "  thought  the  artist, 
as  he  looked  at  the  table.  And  he  began  to  eat  like  a  man 
who  had  breakfasted  at  Vierzon  at  six  in  the  morning,  off  an 
execrable  cup  of  coffee. 

When  Joseph  had  eaten  his  bread  and  asked  for  some  more. 


186  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Monsieur  Hochon  rose,  slowly  felt  for  a  key  in  the  depths  of 
his  coat-pocket,  opened  a  cupboard  behind  him,  flourished 
the  stump  of  a  twelve-pound  loaf,  ceremoniously  cut  off  an- 
other slice,  which  he  divided  in  two,  put  it  on  a  plate,  and 
passed  the  plate  across  the  table  to  the  young  painter,  with 
the  silence  and  composure  of  an  old  soldier,  who  says  to  him- 
self at  the  beginning  of  a  battle,  "  Well,  I  may  be  dead  by 
to-night." 

Joseph  took  half  the  slice,  and  understood  that  he  must 
never  again  ask  for  more  bread.  No  member  of  the  family 
was  surprised  at  this  scene,  which  to  Joseph  seemed  so  pre- 
posterous. 

The  conversation  went  on.  Agathe  heard  that  the  house 
she  was  born  in,  her  father's  house  before  he  had  inherited 
that  of  the  Descoings,  had  been  bought  by  the  Borniches, 
and  she  expressed  a  wish  to  see  it  again. 

"The  Borniches  will  call  this  evening,  no  doubt,"  said 
her  godmother.  "  All  the  town  will  come  to  inspect  you," 
she  added  to  Joseph,  "  and  they  will  ask  you  to  their  houses." 
For  dessert  the  maid  brought  in  the  famous  soft  cheeses  of 
Touraine  and  Berry,  made  of  goats'  milk,  which  so  exactly 
reproduce,  in  a  sort  of  niello,  the  veining  of  the  vine-leaves 
on  which  they  are  served,  that  engraving  might  very  well 
have  been  invented  in  Touraine.  On  each  side  of  the  little 
cheeses  Gritte  ceremoniously  served  some  walnuts  and  some 
rocky  biscuits. 

"Come,  Gritte,  bring  us  some  fruit,"  said  Madame 
Hochon. 

"  Madame,  there  is  no  rotten  fruit  left,"  replied  Gritte. 
Joseph  shouted   with   laughter,   as  if  he  had  been   in  his 
studio  with  his  own  companions,  for  he  understood  at  once 
that  the  precaution  of  beginning  first  on  damaged  fruit  had 
degenerated  into  a  habit. 

"  Oh,  we  can  eat  it  all  the  same  !  "  said  he,  with  the  dash 
of  spirit  of  a  man  who  feels  that  he  must  speak. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  187 

"  Pray  go  for  some,  Monsieur  Hoclion,"  said  the  old  lady. 

Monsieur  Hochon,  much  annoyed  by  the  artist's  remark, 
fetched  some  small  peaches,  some  pears,  and  late  plums. 

**Adolphine,  go  and  cut  some  grapes,"  said  Madame 
Hochon  to  her  granddaughter. 

Joseph  looked  at  the  two  young  men  with  an  expression 
that  seemed  to  say,  "And  is  it  to  such  a  diet  as  this  that  you 
owe  your  blooming  appearance?  " 

Baruch  understood  this  keen  glance,  and  could  not  help 
smiling,  for  his  cousin  Hocb.on  and  he  had  displayed  moderate 
appetites.  The  food  at  home  was  a  matter  of  indifference  to 
men  who  supped  three  times  a  week  at  La  Cognette's.  And 
just  before  dinner,  Baruch  had  had  notice  that  the  grand 
master  of  the  order  had  summoned  a  full  meeting  at  midnight 
to  have  a  splendid  supper,  as  he  required  their  cooperation. 

This  banquet  of  welcome  offered  to  his  guests  by  old 
Hochon  explains  how  necessary  these  midnight  festivities 
were  for  the  maintenance  of  these  two  great  fellows,  who  had 
fine  appetites,  and  who  never  missed  one. 

"We  will  have  some  liqueurs  in  the  drawing-room,"  said 
Madame  Hochon,  rising,  and  signing  to  Joseph  to  give  her 
his  arm.  They  went  out  first,  and  she  was  able  to  say  to  the 
painter,  "  Well,  my  poor  boy,  your  dinner  will  not  give  you 
an  indigestion  ;  but  I  had  great  difficulty  in  procuring  it  for 
you  !  You  will  find  lenten  fare  here  ;  just  enough  to  eat  to 
keep  you  alive,  and  that  is  all.     So  just  make  the  best  of  it." 

The  frank  simplicity  of  the  old  lady,  thus  pronouncing 
judgment  on  her  own  house,  pleased  the  painter,  and  he  felt 
deeply  impressed  by  it. 

"I  shall  have  lived  fifty  years  with  that  old  man  without 
ever  having  heard  twenty  crowns  jingle  in  my  purse.  Oh,  if 
it  were  not  for  the  hope  of  saving  your  fortune,  I  would 
never  have  invited  your  mother  and  you  to  stay  in  my 
prison  !  " 

**  But  how  is  it  that  you  are  still  alive  ?  "  said  the  painter 


1S8  A    BACr/ErOR'S   FSTABTJSHMENT. 

artlessly,  with  the  light-heartedness  that  never  deserts  a 
i'Vench  artist. 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  "  said  she.      "  I  pray." 

Joseph  felt  a  thrill  as  he  heard  these  words,  which  gave  the 
old  woman  such  dignity  in  his  eyes  that  he  drew  back  two  or 
three  steps  to  look  in  her  face  ;  he  saw  it  radiant,  full  of  such 
tender  serenity,  that  he  said  to  her — 

"  I  will  paint  your  portrait " 

"  No,  no,"  said  she.  "  I  have  hated  life  on  earth  too  much 
to  wish  to  remain  on  it  in  a  picture." 

As  she  spoke  the  sad  words  in  a  light  tone,  she  took  from  a 
cupboard  a  flask  containing  black-currant  brandy,  a  household 
liqueur  prepared  by  herself,  for  she  had  had  the  recipe  from 
the  famous  sisterhood  who  also  created  the  Issoudun  cakes, 
one  of  the  greatest  achievements  of  French  confectionery, 
which  no  chef,  cook,  pastry  cook,  or  confectioner  has  ever 
been  able  to  imitate.  Monsieur  de  Riviere,  the  ambassador 
to  Constantinople,  ordered  immense  numbers  every  year  for 
Mahmoud's  seraglio.  Adolphine  held  a  small  lacquer  trav 
full  of  little  old-fashioned  glasses  with  an  engraved  pattern 
and  a  gilt  rim  ;  as  her  grandmother  filled  them,  she  carrieti 
them  round. 

"  Glasses  round.  Father  will  have  some  !  "  cried  Agathe 
gaily,  reminded  of  her  young  days  by  this  time-honored 
ceremony. 

"  Hochon  will  presently  go  to  his  club  to  read  the  pa- 
pers ;  we  will  have  a  little  time  to  ourselves,"  said  the  old 
lady  in  a  low  voice. 

In  fact,  ten  minutes  later,  the  three  women  and  Joseph  were 
left  to  themselves  in  the  drawing-room.  Its  floor  was  never 
polished,  only  swept,  while  the  tapestried  panels,  in  oak 
frames,  with  deep  0-G's  and  mouldings,  and  all  the  simple 
heavy  furniture,  stood  before  Madame  Bridau  exactly  as  she 
had  left  them.  The  Monarchy,  the  Revolution,  the  Empire, 
and  the  Restoration,  respecters  of  few  things,  had   respected 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTA BUSriMENT.  189 

this  room,  where  their  splendors  and  disasters  had  left  not  a 
trace. 

*'  Ah,  godmother,  my  life  has  been  cruelly  storm-tossed  in 
comparison  with  yours!"  exclaimed  Madame  Bridau,  sur- 
prised to  see  even  a  canary  bird,  which  she  had  known  alive, 
stuffed  and  standing  on  the  chimney-shelf  between  the  old 
clock  and  the  old  brass  branched  candlesticks  and  silver  taper- 
stands. 

"My  child,"  replied  the  old  lady,  "storms  are  in  the 
heart.  The  greater  and  the  more  needed  is  our  resignation, 
the  greater  must  our  inmost  struggles  be.  But  we  will  not 
talk  of  mine,  but  of  your  affairs.  You  are  indeed  exactly 
opposite  the  foe,"  she  went  on,  pointing  to  the  windows  of 
old  Rouget's  house. 

"  They  are  sitting  down  to  dinner,"  quietly  remarked 
Adolphine. 

The  young  girl,  almost  a  recluse,  was  constantly  looking 
out  of  the  window,  hoping  to  catch  some  light  shed  by  chance 
on  the  enormities  ascribed  to  Maxence  Gilet,  to  La  Ra- 
bouilleuse,  and  to  Jean-Jacques,  of  which  a  hint  now  and 
again  reached  her  ears  when  she  was  sent  away  while  they 
were  discussed.  The  old  lady  now  told  her  grandaughter  to 
leave  her  with  Monsieur  and  Madame  Bridau  till  the  first 
visitor  should  come. 

"  For  I  know  my  Issoudun."  said  she,  looking  at  the  two 
Parisians ;  "  we  shall  have  ten  or  twelve  batches  of  inquisitive 
callers  this  evening." 

Madame  Hochon  hardly  had  time  to  give  them  the  events 
and  particulars  concerning  the  extraordinary  influence  exerted 
over  Jean-Jacques  Rouget  by  La  Rabouilleuse  and  Maxence 
Gilet — not  with  the  synthetic  brevity  with  which  they  have 
here  been  narrated,  but  with  the  addition  of  a  thousand  com- 
ments, descriptions,  and  hypotheses  lent  to  them  by  good 
and  evil  tongues  in  the  town — when  Adolphine  announced 
the  approach  of  the  Borniches,  the  Beaussiers,  the  Lousteau- 


100  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Prangins,  the  Fichets,  the  Goddet-Heraus,  fourteen  persons 
in  all,  who  loomed  up  in  the  distance. 

"So,  you  see,  my  dear  child,"  said  the  old  lady  in  con- 
clusion, "that  it  will  be  no  small  matter  to  drag  this  for- 
tune out  of  the  wolf's  mouth " 

"  It  seems  to  me  so  difficult  with  such  a  scoundrel  as  you 
have  described,  and  a  thing  like  that  young  witch,  that  it 
must  be  impossible,"  said  Joseph.  "  We  should  have  to  re- 
main at  Issoudun  a  year  at  least  to  combat  their  influence 
and  undo  their  power  over  my  uncle.  No  fortune  is  worth 
so  much  vexation,  to  say  nothing  of  having  to  stoop  to  a 
thousand  dishonorable  tricks.  My  mother  has  but  a  fort- 
night's leave  of  absence  ;  her  appointment  is  a  certainty,  and 
she  must  not  risk  losing  it.  In  the  month  of  October  I  have 
some  important  work  to  do  which  Schinner  has  secured  for 
me  in  a  nobleman's  house.  And  to  me,  madame,  you  see, 
fortune  lies  in  my  paint-brushes." 

This  speech  was  received  with  profound  amazement.  Madame 
Hochon,  though  relatively  superior  to  the  place  she  lived  in, 
did  not  believe  in  painting.  She  looked  at  her  goddaughter, 
and  again  grasped  her  hand. 

"This  Maxence  is  a  second  edition  of  Philippe,"  said 
Joseph  in  his  mother's  ear  ;  "  but  with  more  policy,  more  style 
than  Philippe  has.  Well,  madame,"  he  added  aloud,  "we 
shall  not  long  put  Monsieur  Hochon  out  of  his  way  by  stay- 
ing here." 

"Oh,  you  are  young;  you  know  nothing  of  the  world," 
said  the  old  lady.  "In  a  fortnight,  with  a  little  political 
manoeuvring,  you  may  do  something.  Listen  to  my  advice, 
and  act  as  I  may  direct  you." 

"Oh,  very  gladly!"  cried  Joseph.  "I  am  conscious  of 
ineffable  incapacity  in  domestic  tactics ;  and  I  am  sure  I  do 
not  know  what  Dcsroches  himself  would  advise  us  to  do  if, 
for  instance,  my  unrle  refuses  to  see  us  to-morrow." 

Mesdames   Bornichc,  Goddet-Herau,  Bcaussier,  I,ousteau- 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  lOT 

Prangin,  and  Fichet,  graced  by  their  liusbands,  now  came  in. 
After  the  usual  greetings,  and  when  the  fourteen  persons 
had  found  seats,  Madame  Hochon  could  not  avoid  introducing 
to  them  her  goddaughter  Agathe  and  Joseph  Bridau.  Joseph 
remained  on  a  sofa,  and  gave  himself  up  to  a  covert  study  of 
the  sixty  faces  which  from  half-past  five  till  nine  came  to  sit 
to  him  gratis,  as  he  said  to  his  mother.  And  Joseph's  attitude 
throughout  this  evening  in  regard  to  the  patricians  of  Issoudun 
did  nothing  to  alter  the  views  of  the  little  town  in  regard  to 
him.  Every  one  left  chilled  by  his  ironical  gaze,  uncomfortable 
under  his  smile,  or  alarmed  by  his  face,  sinister,  no  doubt,  to 
people  who  could  not  discern  the  eccentricity  of  genius. 

At  ten  o'clock,  when  everybody  went  to  bed,  the  old  lady 
detained  her  goddaughter  in  her  room  till  midnight.  Then, 
knowing  that  they  were  alone,  the  two  women,  while  telling 
each  other  the  troubles  of  their  lives,  made  an  exchange  of 
suffering.  As  she  measured  the  vastness  of  the  solitude  in 
which  all  the  powers  of  a  beautiful  soul  had  been  spent  un- 
recognized, as  she  heard  the  last  utterances  of  an  intelligence 
that  had  missed  its  opportunities,  as  she  learned  the  sorrows  of 
a  heart  so  essentially  generous  and  charitable,  but  whose  gener- 
osity and  charity  had  never  had  full  play,  Agathe  no  longer 
regarded  herself  as  the  more  unfortunate  of  the  two,  as  slie 
perceived  how  much  mitigation  and  minor  happiness  her  Paris 
life  had  afforded  in  the  midst  of  the  discipline  appointed  her 
by  God. 

"You,  who  are  so  pious,  godmother,  tell  me  my  faults," 
said  she.    "  Tell  me  what  it  is  that  God  is  punishing  me  for." 

"  He  prepares  us,  my  child,"  replied  the  old  lady  as  mid- 
night struck. 

At  midnight  the  Knights  of  Idlesse  were  making  their  way, 
one  by  one,  like  shades,  to  meet  under  the  trees  of  the  Boule- 
vard Baron,  and  walked  to  and  fro,  talking  in  low  whispers. 

"  What  is  upf  ' '  was  the  first  question  of  each  new-comer. 


192  A  BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  I  fancy,"  said  Francois,  "  that  all  Max  intends  is  to  give 
us  a  feed." 

"  No.  Matters  are  looking  awkward  for  him  and  La  Ra- 
bouilleuse.  He  has  concocted  some  plot  against  these  Paris- 
ians no  doubt " 

''  It  would  be  good  fun  to  pack  them  off  again." 

"  My  grandfather,"  said  Baruch,  "  is  in  a  fright  already  at 
having  two  more  mouths  to  fill,  and  he  would  jump  at  any 
excuse " 

"Well,  knights!  "  cried  Max  in  a  low  voice  as  he  came 
up,  "  why  are  you  gazing  at  the  stars?  They  will  not  distill 
kirsch  on  our  heads.     To  La  Cognette's!    ToLa  Cognette's!  " 

"  To  La  Cognette's  !  " 

The  shout  as  of  one  voice  produced  a  fearful  din,  that  swept 
across  the  little  town  like  the  hue  of  soldiers  rushing  on  an 
assault ;  then  utter  silence  fell.  Next  morning  more  than  one 
person  would  say  to  his  neighbor  :  "  Did  you  hear  that  fearful 
yell  last  night  at  about  one  o'clock  ?  I  thought  there  was  a 
fire  somewhere." 

A  supper  worthy  of  La  Cognette  cheered  the  eyes  of  the 
two-and-twenty  guests,  for  the  order  was  present  in  all  its 
numbers.  At  two  in  the  morning,  when  they  were  beginning 
to  siroter,  a  word  of  their  own  peculiar  slang,  fairly  descrip- 
tive of  the  art  of  drinking  in  sips  and  slowly  tasting  the  wine. 
Max  addressed  the  meeting  : 

"  My  dear  boys,  this  morning,  in  consequence  of  the  never- 
to-be-forgotten  trick  we  played  with  Fario's  cart,  your  grand 
master  was  so  grossly  insulted  on  a  point  of  honor  by  that  base 
corn-dealer,  and  a  Spaniard  to  boot — Ah,  those  hulks  ! — that 
I  am  determined  to  let  that  miscreant  feel  the  whole  weight 
of  my  vengeance,  within  the  strict  limits  of  our  sports.  After 
considering  the  matter  all  day,  I  have  hit  on  a  plan  for  play- 
ing him  a  capital  trick,  a  trick  that  is  enough  to  drive  him 
mad.  While  avenging  the  order  attacked  in  my  person,  we 
may  fcr^^  rertain  animals  worshiped  by  the  Egyptians,  little 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  193 

beasts  which  are,  after  all,  God's  creatures,  though  men  perse- 
cute them  unjustly.  Good  comes  of  evil,  and  evil  of  good  ; 
such  is  the  divine  law  !  I  require  you  each  and  all,  under 
pain  of  your  humble  servant  and  grand  master's  displeasure, 
to  procure,  as  secretly  as  possible,  twenty  rats,  or,  if  possible, 
lady  rats  expecting  families  by  God's  grace.  You  must  col- 
lect your  contingent  within  three  days.  If  you  can  get  more, 
the  surplus  will  be  acceptable.  Keep  these  interesting  rodents 
without  food,  for  it  is  essential  that  the  dear  little  beasts  should 
be  ravenously  hungry.  Observe,  I  include  as  rats,  mice  and 
field-mice.  If  we  multiply  twenty  by  twenty-two,  we  shall 
have  more  than  four  hundred  accomplices,  who,  when  turned 
out  in  the  old  church  of  the  Capuchins,  where  Fario  has 
stored  all  ihe  seed-corn  he  has  just  laid  in,  will  consume  a 
certain  quantity  of  it.  But  we  must  look  sharp  !  Fario  is  to 
deliver  a  large  parcel  of  seeds  in  a  week  ;  now  what  I  want  is 
that  my  Spanish  friend,  who  is  traveling  round  for  orders, 
should  find  a  fearful  waste. 

"  Gentlemen,  the  merit  of  this  invention  is  not  mine,"  he 
went  on,  noting  signs  of  general  approbation.  "  '  Render 
unto  Caesar  the  things  which  are  Csesar's,  and  unto  God  the 
things  that  are  God's,'  This  is  an  imitation  of  Samson's 
foxes  in  the  Bible.  But  Samson  was  an  incendiary,  and  con- 
sequently not  a  philanthropist  ;  while  we,  like  the  Brahmins, 
are  the  protectors  of  a  persecuted  race.  Mademoiselle  Flore 
Brazier  has  already  set  all  her  mouse-traps,  and  Kouski,  my 
right  hand,  is  hunting  field-mice.      I  have  spoken." 

"I  know,"  said  Goddtt  Junior,  "where  to  get  an  animal 
as  good  as  forty  rats  single-handed." 

"What?" 

"  A  squirrel." 

"And  I  can  contribute  a  small  monkey  who  will  eat  corn 
till  he  bursts,"  said  a  novice. 

"No  good!"   said  Max.     "It  will  be  known  where  the 
beasts  come  from." 
13 


194  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

'•'In  the  course  of  the  night,"  said  young  Beaussier,  "we 
might  bring  in  one  pigeon  from  the  pigeon-house  of  each 
farm  in  the  neighborhood,  by  putting  it  through  a  hole  made 
in  the  roof,  and  there  soon  would  be  thousands  of  pigeons." 

"  Well,  then,  for  a  week  Fario's  corn-store  is  the  order  of 
the  night,"  said  Gilet,  smiling  at  the  tall  youth  Beaussier 
junior.  "  You  know  that  they  are  astir  early  at  Saint- 
Paterne.  Mind  no  one  is  to  go  there  without  having  put  the 
soles  of  his  list-shoes  on  hind  part  before.  Our  good  knight 
Beaussier,  the  inventor  of  the  pigeon  trick,  takes  the  com- 
mand. For  my  part,  I  will  take  care  to  leave  my  mark  on 
the  grain.  I  leave  it  to  you  to  be  quartermasters-general  to 
the  forces  of  rats.  If  the  shop-boy  sleeps  in  the  old  church, 
his  companions  must  make  him  drunk ;  and  do  it  cleverly,  so 
as  to  get  him  far  away  from  the  banquet  to  be  provided  for 
the  rodents." 

"And  you  say  nothing  about  the  Parisians?"  asked 
Goddet. 

"Oh  !  "  said  Max,  "  they  must  be  studied.  At  the  same 
time,  I  will  give  my  fine  fowling-piece,  that  came  to  me  from 
the  Emperor,  a  first-class  article  from  the  Versailles  factory — 
it  is  worth  two  thousand  francs — to  any  one  who  will  hit  upon 
a  plan  for  playing  these  Parisians  some  trick  to  get  them  into 
such  bad  odor  with  Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon  that  the 
old  folks  should  pack  them  off,  or  that  they  should  go  of  their 
own  accord  ;  without  causing  too  much  annoyance,  however, 
to  the  ancestors  of  my  good  friends  Frangois  and  Baruch." 

"All  right,  I  will  think  it  over,"  said  young  Goddet,  who 
was  passionately  addicted  to  shooting. 

"And  if  the  inventor  of  the  play  does  not  want  the  gun, 
he  may  have  my  horse,"  added  Maxence. 

Thenceforth  twenty  brains  were  vainly  racked  to  concoct 
some  plot  against  Agathe  and  her  son,  in  conformity  with  this 
programme.  But  the  devil  alone,  or  some  chance,  could 
succeed ;  the  conditions  of  the  case  made  it  so  difficult. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  195 

Next  morning  Agathe  and  Joseph  came  downstairs  a  minute 
before  the  second  breakfast  at  ten  o'clock.  The  meal  called 
the  first  breakfast  consisted  of  a  cup  of  milk  and  a  slice  of 
bread  and  butter,  eaten  in  bed  or  on  getting  up. 

While  waiting  for  Madame  Hochon,  who,  in  spite  of  old 
age,  carefully  went  through  all  the  ceremonies  employed  in 
their  toilet  by  the  duchesses  of  Louis  XV. 's  reign,  Joseph 
saw,  on  the  threshold  of  the  house  opposite,  Jean-Jacques 
Rouget  standing  squarely  in  the  doorway.  He,  naturally, 
pointed  him  out  to  his  mother,  who  could  not  recognize  her 
brother,  so  little  was  he  like  what  he  had  been  when  they 
parted. 

"There  is  your  brother,"  said  Adolphine,  who  had  given 
her  grandmother  her  arm. 

"  What  an  idiot !  "  cried  Joseph. 

Agathe  clasped  her  hands  and  looked  up  to  heaven  j  then 
exclaimed — 

"  What  have  they  brought  him  to?  Good  heavens  !  is  that 
a  man  of  fifty-seven  ?  " 

She  wished  to  look  at  him  attentively,  and  then  saw  Flore 
Brazier  come  up  behind  him,  her  hair  dressed  without  a  cap, 
and  displaying,  through  the  gauze  of  a  kerchief  trimmed  with 
lace,  snowy  shoulders  and  a  dazzling  bosom  ;  she  was  dressed 
as  elaborately  as  a  rich  courtesan,  wearing  a  tightly  fitting 
gown  of  grenadine — a  silk  stuff  then  very  fashionable — with 
gigot  sleeves,  and  magnificent  bracelets  on  her  wrists.  A  gold 
chain  meandered  over  the  bodice  of  La  Rabouilleuse,  who 
had  brought  Jean-Jacques  his  black  silk  cap  that  he  might  not 
catch  cold — it  was  evidently  a  got-up  scene. 

"  What  a  lovely  woman  ?  "  cried  Joseph.  "  Of  a  rare  kind, 
too  !  Made  to  be  painted,  as  we  say  !  What  flesh-tints,  what 
splendid  coloring  !  What  a  skin,  what  curves,  and  what 
shoulders  !  She  is  a  magnificent  Caryatid  !  And  a  perfect 
model  for  a  Titian's  Venus  !  " 

To  Adolphine  and  Madame  Hochon  this  might  have  been 


196  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Greek ;  but  Agathe,  behind  her  son,  made  a  sign  to  them  as 
much  as  to  say  that  she  was  accustomed  to  this  jargon. 

"You  think  a  woman  lovely  who  is  robbing  you  of  a  for- 
tune !  "  exclaimed  Madame  Hochon. 

"  That  does  not  prevent  her  being  a  splendid  model  ! 
Exactly  full  enough,  without  the  hips  or  bust  having  become 
coarse " 

"My  dear,  you  are  not  in  your  studio,"  said  Agathe. 
"Adolphine  is  here " 

"To  be  sure,  I  beg  pardon  ;  but,  really,  all  the  way  from 
Paris  along  the  road  I  saw  none  but  apes " 

"But,  my  dear  godmother,"  said  Agathe,  "  how  can  I  see 
my  brother?     For  if  that  creature  is  with  him " 

"Pooh  !  "  said  Joseph.  "  I  will  go  to  see  him.  For,  in- 
deed, I  don't  think  him  quite  such  an  idiot  if  he  has  wit 
enough  to  gladden  his  eyes  with  a  Venus  worthy  of  Titian." 

"  If  he  were  not  an  idiot,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  coming 
in,  "  he  would  have  married  comfortably,  have  had  a  family, 
and  you  would  have  had  no  chance  at  all  of  his  fortune. 
Some  good  comes  out  of  evil." 

"  That  is  a  good  idea  of  your  son's;  he  can  go  first  to  call 
on  his  uncle,"  said  Madame  Hochon.  "  He  will  give  him  to 
understand  that  if  you  go  he  must  receive  you  alone." 

"And  so  affront  Mademoiselle  Brazier?"  said  Monsieur 
Hochon.  "  No,  no,  madame.  Put  up  with  this  grievance. 
If  you  do  not  get  the  fortune,  try  to  secure  a  legacy." 

The  Hochons  were  no  match  for  Maxence  Gilet.  In  the 
middle  of  breakfast  the  Pole  arrived  with  a  note  from  his 
master,  Monsieur  Rouget,  addressed  to  his  sister,  Madame 
Bridau. 

Here  is  the  letter  which  Madame  Hochon  made  her  hus- 
band read — 

"My  dear  Sister: — I  liear  through  strangers  of  your 
arrival   at  Issoudun.     I  can  guess  the   reason  for  your  pre- 


A  BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT.  197 

ferring  Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon's  house  to  mine  ;  but 
if  you  come  to  see  me,  you  shall  be  received  here  as  you 
ought  to  be.  I  should  be  the  first  to  call  on  you  but  that  my 
health  compels  me  at  present  to  keep  the  house.  I  offer  you 
my  affectionate  respects.  I  should  be  delighted  to  meet  your 
son,  whom  I  shall  hope  to  see  at  dinner  with  me  to-day,  for 
your.g  men  are  less  precise  than  women  as  to  the  company 
they  meet.  He  will  give  me  great  pleasure  by  coming  accom- 
panied by  Messieurs  Baruch  Borniche  and  Francois  Hochon. 
"Your  affectionate  brother, 

"J. -J.   ROUGET." 

"  Say  that  we  are  at  breakfast,  that  Madame  Bridau  will 
send  an  answer  presently,  and  the  gentlemen  accept  the  invi- 
tation," said  Monsieur  Hochon  to  the  maid.  And  the  old 
man  laid  his  finger  on  his  lip  to  impress  silence  on  all  the 
party. 

When  the  house-door  was  shut,  Monsieur  Hochon,  having 
no  suspicion  of  the  alliance  between  his  grandsons  and  Max- 
ence,  shot  one  of  his  keenest  glances  at  his  wife  and  Agathe. 

"He  no  more  wrote  that,"  said  he,  "than  I  am  able 
to  pay  down  twenty-five  louis.  The  soldier  is  our  corre- 
spondent." 

"  What  does  it  all  mean  ?"  said  Madame  Hochon.  "  Never 
mind,  we  will  answer  it.  You,  monsieur,"  she  added,  turn- 
ing to  the  painter,  "'  will  dine  there,  I  hope;  but  if " 

The  old  lady  stopped  short  at  a  look  from  her  husband. 
Seeing  the  warmth  of  his  wife's  affection  for  Agathe,  old 
Hochon  feared  lest  she  should  leave  her  goddaughter  some 
legacy  in  the  event  of  her  losing  all  the  Rouget  property. 
Though  he  was  fifteen  years  the  elder,  the  miser  hoped  to 
survive  her,  and  to  see  himself  one  day  master  of  everything. 
This  hope  was  his  ruling  idea.  So  Madame  Hochon  had 
rightly  guessed  that  the  way  to  extract  some  concessions  from 
her  husband  was  to  threaten  that  she  would  make  a  will. 


198  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

So  Monsieur  Hochon  sided  with  his  guests.  The  Rouget 
fortune,  which  hung  in  the  balance,  was  in  fact  enormous; 
and  his  sense  of  social  justice  made  him  wish  to  see  it  in  the 
hands  of  the  natural  heirs  rather  than  grabbed  by  disreputable 
outsiders.  Again,  the  sooner  the  business  was  settled,  the 
sooner  would  he  be  rid  of  his  visitors.  Since  the  struggle, 
which  till  now  had  been  only  a  scheme  of  his  wife's,  had 
actually  begun  between  the  rightful  heirs  and  the  unrighteous 
schemers,  Monsieur  Hochon's  mind  had  waked  up  from  the 
sleep  induced  by  provincial  life.  Madame  Hochon  was  quite 
agreeably  surprised  when,  that  very  morning,  she  understood, 
from  some  kindly  expression  of  old  Hochon's  with  regard  to 
her  goddaughter,  that  this  competent  and  wily  auxiliary  was 
on  the  side  of  the  Bridaus. 

By  noon  the  combined  talents  of  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Hochon,  of  Agathe  and  Joseph — a  good  deal  surprised  to 
find  the  two  old  people  so  careful  in  their  choice  of  words — 
had  brought  to  birth  the  following  reply  for  the  especial 
benefit  of  Flore  and  Maxence : 

"  My  dear  Brother  ; — If  I  have  waited  thirty  years  with- 
out revisiting  this  town,  or  keeping  up  any  intercourse  with 
any  one  in  it,  not  even  with  you,  the  fault  lies  not  alone  with 
the  strange  and  false  ideas  my  father  had  formed  against  me, 
but  partly  with  the  misfortunes  and  with  the  happiness  of  my 
life  in  Paris;  for,  though  God  made  me  a  happy  wife,  He  has 
sorely  stricken  me  as  a  mother.  You  cannot  but  know  that 
my  son,  your  nephew  Philippe,  lies  under  a  capital  charge  of 
treason  in  consequence  of  his  devotion  to  the  Emperor. 
Hence,  you  will  not  be  surprised  to  hear  that  a  widow,  com- 
pelled to  earn  her  living  by  accepting  a  humble  employment 
in  a  lottery  office,  should  have  come  to  seek  consolation  and 
substantial  help  from  those  who  have  known  her  from  her 
birth. 

"The  profession  taken  up  by  the  son  who  is  with  me  is  one 


A   BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT.  199 

of  those  which  demand  great  talent,  great  sacrifices,  and  long 
study  before  leading  to  any  success.  Glory  precedes  fortune 
in  this  career.  Is  not  this  as  much  as  to  say  that  even  if 
Joseph  makes  his  name  famous,  he  will  still  be  poor? 

"  I,  your  sister,  my  dear  Jean-Jacques,  would  have  endured 
in  silence  the  effects  of  our  father's  injustice,  but  forgive  me 
as  a  mother  for  reminding  you  that  you  have  two  nephews — 
one  who  served  on  the  Emperor's  staff  at  the  battle  of  Mon- 
tereau  and  fought  with  the  Imperial  Guard  at  Waterloo,  and 
who  is  now  in  prison  ;  the  other  who,  from  the  age  of  thir- 
teen, has  been  led  by  a  vocation  into  a  difficult  though 
splendid  career. 

"So  I  thank  you,  my  dear  brother,  with  heartfelt  warmth, 
for  your  letter,  both  on  my  own  account  and  on  Joseph's  ; 
he  will  certainly  wait  on  you  at  your  invitation.  Ill  health 
excuses  everything,  my  dear  Jean-Jacques ;  I  will  see  you  in 
your  own  house.  A  sister  is  always  at  home  in  her  brother's 
house,  whatever  life  he  may  choose  to  lead. 

'■'■  Accept  my  affectionate  regards, 

**  Agathe  Rouget." 

**  There,  the  battle  has  begun.  When  you  go  there,"  said 
Monsieur  Hochon,  "  you  can  speak  plainly  to  him  about  his 
nephews." 

The  letter  was  delivered  by  Gritte,  who  returned  in  ten 
minutes  to  report  to  her  superiors  all  she  had  been  able  to  see 
or  hear,  as  is  the  custom  in  the  provinces. 

"  Madame,"  said  she,  "  since  last  evening,  all  that  part  of 
the  house  that  madame  had  left " 

"  Madame — who?  "  asked  old  Hochon. 

"Oh,  they  call  La  Rabouilleuse  madame  over  there," 
replied  Gritte. 

"  She  had  left  the  drawing-room  and  everything  that  was 
about  Monsieur  Rouget  in  a  dreadful  state ;  but  since  yester- 
day the  house  is  all  to  rights  again,  as  it  was  before  Monsieur 


2C,0  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Maxence  came  there.  Yon  could  see  yourself  in  everything. 
Vedie  told  me  that  Kouski  was  out  on  horseback  by  six  this 
morning;  he  came  in  about  nine,  bringing  in  provisions. 
Indeed,  there  is  to  be  the  best  of  dinners,  a  dinner  fit  for  the 
archbishop  of  Bourges.  Little  pans  are  standing  in  big  pans, 
and  everything  is  in  order  in  the  kitchen.  '  I  mean  to  treat 
my  nephew  handsomely,'  the  old  fellow  said,  and  made  them 
tell  him  all  they  were  doing.  The  Rougets  were  highly  flat- 
tered by  the  letter,  it  would  seem  ;  madame  came  out  to  tell 
me  so.  Oh,  she  is  dressed !  Such  a  dress  !  I  never  saw  any- 
thing handsomer  !  Madame  has  diamonds  in  her  ears — two 
diamonds  worth  a  thousands  crowns  a  piece,  Vedie  told  me — 
and  lace !  and  rings  on  her  fingers,  and  bracelets  good 
enough  for  a  shrine,  and  a  silk  gown  fit  for  an  altar  front ! 
And  then  says  she  to  me  :  '  Monsieur  is  delighted  to  think 
his  sister  is  so  ready  and  willing,  and  I  hope  she  will  allow  us 
to  entertain  her  as  she  deserves.  And  we  look  forward  to 
her  good  opinion  of  us  when  she  hears  how  welcome  we  make 
her  son.  And  monsieur  is  most  impatient  to  see  his  nephew.' 
Madame  had  little  black  satin  shoes  and  stockings  !  Oh, 
really  wonderful.  Like  flowers  on  the  silk,  and  holes  like 
lace,  and  you  see  the  pink  flesh  through.  In  short,  she  is  up 
to  the  nines  !  With  such  a  dear  little  apron  in  front  of  her, 
that  Vedie  told  me  that  apron  alone  cost  two  years  of  our 
wages " 

"  Come,  come,  we  must  get  ourselves  up,"  said  the  artist, 
smiling. 

"  Well,  Monsieur  Hochon,  and  what  are  you  thinking 
about  ?  "  said  the  old  lady,  when  Gritte  had  left  the  room. 

Madame  Hochon  pointed  to  her  husband  sitting  with  his 
head  in  his  hands,  and  his  elbows  on  the  arms  of  his  chair, 
lost  in  thought. 

"You  have  a  Maitre  Bonin  to  deal  with,"  said  the  old 
man.  "You,  young  man,  with  your  notions,  are  no  match 
in    a   struggle   with    a   scoundrel  of  such  skill   as   Maxence. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  201 

Whatever  I  may  say,  you  are  sure  to  make  some  blunder ;  but 
at  any  rate  tell  me  this  evening  all  you  see,  hear^  and  do. 
Go — and  God  be  with  you  !  Try  to  have  a  few  minutes  alone 
with  your  uncle.  If  in  spite  of  all  you  can  do,  you  fail  in 
that,  it  will  throw  some  light  on  their  scheme ;  but  if  you  are 
alone  with  him  for  one  instant — alone,  without  being  over- 
heard, mind  you  ! — you  must  speak  very  plainly  to  him  as  to 
his  position — which  is  not  a  becoming  one — and  plead  your 
mother's  cause." 

At  four  o'clock  Joseph  crossed  the  straits  which  divided 
the  Hochons'  house  from  the  Rougets',  the  avenue  of  sickly 
lime  trees,  two  hundred  feet  long,  and  as  wide  as  the  Grande 
Narette.  When  the  nephew  appeared,  Kouski,  in  freshly 
blacked  boots,  black  trousers,  white  waistcoat,  and  black  coat, 
led  the  way  to  announce  him. 

The  table  was  ready  laid  in  the  sitting-room,  and  Joseph, 
who  easily  identified  his  uncle,  went  straight  up  to  him  and 
embraced  him,  bowing  to  Flore  and  Maxence. 

"  We  have  never  met  since  I  came  into  the  world,  my  dear 
uncle,"  said  the  painter  gaily.  "  But  better  late  than 
never." 

*' You  are  very  welcome,  my  dear  boy,"  said  the  old  man, 
looking  at  his  nephew  with  a  bewildered  air. 

''Madame,"  said  Joseph  to  Flore  with  an  artist's  enthu- 
siasm, "this  morning  I  was  envying  my  uncle  the  pleasure 
he  enjoys  of  admiring  you  every  day." 

"Is  she  not  beautiful?"  said  the  old  man,  his  dull  eyes 
almost  sparkling. 

"  Beautiful  enough  to  be  a  painter's  model." 

"Nephew,"  said  the  old  man,  his  elbow  being  nudged  by 
Flore,  "this  is  Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet,  a  man  who  served 
the  Emperor,  like  your  brother,  in  the  Imperial  Guard." 

Joseph  rose  and  bowed. 

"Your  brother,  I  think,  was  a  dragoon,  and  I  was  only  a 
mud-crusher,"  said  Maxence. 


202  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

••  On  horseback  or  on  foot,"  observed  Flore,  "  you  risked 
your  skin  all  the  same." 

Joseph  studied  Max  as  narrowly  as  Max  studied  Joseph. 
Max  was  dressed  like  the  young  men  of  fashion  of  the  day, 
for  he  had  his  clothes  from  Paris.  A  pair  of  sky-blue  cloth 
trousers,  very  fully  pleated,  made  the  best  of  his  feet  by 
showing  only  the  tips  of  his  boots  and  his  spurs.  His  waist 
was  firmly  held  by  a  white  waistcoat  with  fancy  gold  buttons, 
laced  behind  to  serve  as  a  belt  ;  this  waistcoat,  buttoning  to 
the  throat,  set  off  his  broad  chest,  and  his  black  satin  stock 
obliged  him  to  hold  his  head  up  like  a  soldier.  His  black 
coat  was  extremely  well  cut.  A  handsome  gold  chain  hung 
from  his  waistcoat  pocket,  where  a  flat  watch  scarcely  showed. 
He  was  playing  with  one  of  the  patent  watch-keys  just  in- 
vented by  Breguet. 

"  He  is  a  very  good-looking  fellow  !  "  said  Joseph  to  him- 
self, admiring  as  an  artist  the  face  full  of  life,  the  appearance 
of  strength,  and  the  keen  gray  eyes  inherited  by  Max  from 
his  gentleman  father.  "  My  uncle  must  be  a  deadly  old  bore, 
and  that  handsome  girl  has  sought  compensation.  It  is  a  case 
of  three  in  a  boat,  that  is  very  clear." 

At  this  moment  Baruch  and  Frangois  came  in. 

"You  have  not  yet  seen  the  Tower  of  Issoudun  ? "  said 
Flore  to  Joseph.  "  Well,  if  you  like  to  take  a  little  walk  till 
dinner  is  ready,  which  will  not  be  for  an  hour  yet,  we  will 
show  you  the  great  curiosity  of  the  town " 

"With  pleasure,"  said  the  artist,  unable  to  discern  the 
smallest  objection. 

While  Flore  was  putting  on  her  bonnet,  her  gloves,  and 
her  caslmiere  shawl,  Joseph  suddenly  caught  sight  of  the  pic- 
tures, and  started  to  his  feet  as  if  some  enchanter  had  touched 
him  with  his  wand. 

"  Ah,  ha  !  so  you  have  pictures,  uncle?  "  said  he,  looking 
at  the  one  that  had  struck  him. 

"Yes,"  said  the  old  fellow,   "  they  came  to  me  from  the 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTAPLISrrMENT.  203 

Descoings,  who,  during  the  Revolution,  bought  up  some  of 
the  pickings  of  the  convents  and  churches  of  Berry." 

But  Joseph  was  not  listening.  He  went  from  picture  to 
picture. 

"Magnificent!"  he  exclaimed.  "Why,  what  a  fine 
thing !  That  man  did  not  spoil  canvas.  Bless  me,  why, 
better  and  better  ;  as  we  see  them  at  Nicolet's " 

"There  are  seven  or  eight  more,  very  large  ones,  in  the 
loft,  that  were  kept  for  the  sake  of  the  frames,"  said  Gilet. 

"Let  me  see  them,"  cried  the  artist,  and  Maxence  took 
him  to  the  loft. 

Joseph  came  down  in  raptures.  Max  said  a  word  in  La 
Rabouilleuse's  ear,  and  she  led  the  old  man  to  the  window; 
Joseph  caught  these  words  spoken  in  an  undertone,  but  still 
so  that  he  could  hear  them — 

"Your  nephew  is  a  painter;  you  can  do  nothing  with 
these  pictures.     Be  good-natured,  and  give  them  to  him." 

"It  would  seem,"  said  Rouget,  leaning  on  Flore's  arm, 
and  coming  to  the  spot  where  his  nephew  stood  in  ecsta- 
sies before  an  Albano — "  it  would  seem  that  you  are  a 
painter " 

"  Only  a  smudger  as  yet,"  said  Joseph. 

"  What  ever  is  that  ?  "  said  Flore. 

"A  beginner,"  said  Joseph. 

"Well,"  said  Jean-Jacques,  ''if  these  pictures  can  be  of 

any  use  to  you  in  your  business,  I  will  give  them  to  you 

But  without  the  frames.     The  frames  are  gilt,  and  then  they 
are  quaint ;  I  will  put " 

"Why,  of  course,  uncle,"  cried  Joseph,  enchanted,  "you 
will  put  copies  into  them,  which  I  will  send  you,  and  which 
shall  be  of  the  same  size." 

"  But  that  will  take  time,  and  you  will  want  canvas  and 
paints,"  said  Flore.  *'  It  will  cost  you  money.  Come,  Pere 
Rouget,  suppose  you  offer  your  nephew  a  hundred  francs  for 
each  picture ;  there  are  twenty-seven  here,  and  I  think  there 


204  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

are  eleven  more  in  the  loft,  which  are  enormous,  and  ought 
to  cost  double — say  four  thousand  francs  for  the  lot.  Yes, 
your  uncle  may  very  well  spend  four  thousand  francs  on  the 
copies,  since  he  is  to  keep  the  frames.  You  will  have  to  get 
frames  too,  and  they  say  the  frames  cost  more  than  the  pic- 
tures ;  there  is  gold  on   them I  say,   monsieur,"   Flore 

went  on,  shaking  the  old  man's  arm,  "  listen,  that  is  not 
dear  :  your  nephew  will  charge  you  four  thousand  francs  for 

quite  new  pictures  in  the  place  of  your  old  ones It  is  a 

civil  way  of  making  him  a  present  of  the  money,"  said  she 

in  his  ear.     "  He  does  not  strike  me  as  being  very  flush " 

"Very  well,  nephew,  I  will  pay  you  four  thousand  francs 

for  the  copies " 

"  No,  no,"  said  Joseph  honestly.  "  Four  thousand  francs 
and  the  pictures  are  too  much  ;  for  the  pictures,  you  see,  are 
of  value." 

"Why,  accept  it,  booby,"  said  Flore,  "since  he  is  your 

uncle " 

"Very  well,  I  accept  it,"  said  Joseph,  quite  bewildered, 
for  he  had  recognized  one  picture  as  by  Perugino. 

So  the  artist  looked  quite  gleeful  as  he  went  out,  giving  his 
arm  to  La  Rabouilleuse,  which  perfectly  suited  Max's  pur- 
pose. Neither  Flore,  nor  Rouget,  nor  Max,  nor  any  one  at 
Issoudun  had  any  idea  of  the  value  of  the  pictures,  and  the 
wily  Max  believed  that  he  had  purchased  very  cheaply  Flore's 
triumph  as  she  marched  proudly  arm  in  arm  with  her  master's 
nephew,  on  the  best  possible  terms  with  him,  in  the  eyes  of 
the  astonished  townsfolk.  People  came  to  their  doors  to  see 
the  victory  of  La  Rabouilleuse  over  the  family.  This  astound- 
ing fact  made  the  deep  sensation  on  which  Max  had  built  his 
hopes.  So  when  the  uncle  and  nephew  went  in  at  about  five, 
the  talk  in  every  household  was  of  the  perfect  alliance  be- 
tween Flore  and  Max  and  P^re  Rouget's  nephew.  And  the 
story  of  the  gift  of  the  pictures  and  the  four  thousand  francs 
was  all  over  the  town  already. 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  205 

The  dinner,  to  which  Lousteau,  one  of  the  judges,  and  the 
mayor  of  Issoudun,  was  invited,  was  really  splendid  ;  it  was 
one  of  the  country  meals  which  last  five  hours.  The  finest 
wines  gave  spirit  to  the  conversation.  Over  the  dessert,  at 
nine  o'clock,  the  painter,  seated  between  Flore  and  Max, 
opposite  his  uncle,  was  almost  hail-fellow  with  the  officer, 
whom  he  thought  the  best  of  good  souls.  At  eleven  o'clock 
Joseph  went  home,  a  little  screwed.  As  to  old  Rouget,  Kouski 
carried  him  to  bed  dead  drunk  ;  he  had  eaten  like  a  traveling 
actor  and  drunk  like  the  sands  of  the  desert. 

"Well,  now,"  said  Max,  left  alone  with  Flore,  "is  not 
this  better  than  sulking  with  them  ?  The  Bridaus  are  well 
received  ;  they  will  get  some  little  presents,  and  loaded  with 
favors,  they  can  only  sing  our  praises ;  they  will  go  quietly 
away,  and  leave  us  peaceably  where  we  are.  To-morrow  morn- 
ing Kouski  and  I  between  us  will  take  out  all  those  pictures, 
and  send  them  over  for  the  painter  to  see  them  when  he 
wakes ;  we  will  put  the  frames  in  the  loft,  and  have  the  room 
repapered  with  one  of  those  varnished  papers,  with  scenes  on 
it  from  Telemaque,  such  as  I  saw  at  Monsieur  Mouilleron's." 

"Why,  that  will  be  ever  so  much  prettier!  "  cried  Flore. 

Joseph  did  not  wake  till  noon  next  day.  From  his  bed 
he  saw  the  pictures  leaning  one  above  another,  having  been 
brought  in  without  his  hearing  anything.  While  he  was  ex- 
amining them  afresh,  and  recognizing  them  as  masterpieces, 
studying  the  handling  of  each  master,  or  finding  their  signa- 
tures, his  mother  went  to  thank  her  brother  and  to  see  him, 
urged  to  do  so  by  old  Hochon,  who,  knowing  all  the  blunders 
committed  by  Joseph  the  evening  before,  despaired  of  the 
Bridaus'  prospects. 

"  You  have  to  deal  with  two  very  sharp  customers.  In  all 
my  life  I  never  met  with  so  sly  a  fox  as  that  soldier.  War  is 
the  making  of  these  youths,  it  would  seem.  Joseph  walked 
into  the  trap.    He  appeared  arm  in  arm  with  La  Rabouilleuse. 


206  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

They  have  shut  his  mouth,  no  doubt,  with  wine,  some  rub- 
bishy pictures,  and  four  thousand  francs.  Your  artist  has  not 
cost  Maxence  dear." 

The  cunning  old  man  had  laid  down  a  line  of  conduct  for 
his  wife's  goddaughter,  instructing  her  to  seem  to  agree  with 
Maxence  and  cajole  Flore,  so  as  to  become  to  some  extent 
familiar  with  her,  and  obtain  a  few  minutes'  talk  alone  with 
her  brother.  Madame  Bridau  was  very  well  received  by  Jean- 
Jacques,  tutored  by  Flore.  The  old  man  was  in  bed,  ill  from 
the  excesses  of  the  previous  evening.  As  Agathe  could  not 
attack  him  on  serious  questions  at  the  very  first  moment.  Max 
had  thought  it  correct  and  handsome  to  leave  the  brother  and 
sister  to  themselves.  He  had  calculated  judiciously.  Poor 
Agathe  found  her  brother  so  ill  that  she  would  not  deprive 
him  of  Mademoiselle  Brazier's  attentions. 

''Besides,"  she  said  to  the  old  man,  "I  should  wish  to 
know  the  person  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  my  brother's 
happiness." 

These  words  gave  the  poor  fellow  evident  pleasure ;  he 
rang  and  sent  for  Madame  Brazier.  Flore,  as  may  be  sup- 
posed, was  not  far  off.  The  female  antagonists  exchanged 
salutes.  La  Rabouilleuse  displayed  the  most  obsequious  care, 
the  tenderest  attentions  ;  she  thought  monsieur's  head  was  too 
low  and  rearranged  the  pillows  ;  she  was  like  a  wife  of  yester- 
day.    And  the  old  man  overflowed  with  emotion. 

"  We  owe  you  much  gratitude,  mademoiselle,"  said  Agathe, 
"  for  all  the  marks  of  attachment  you  have  so  long  given  to 
my  brother,  and  for  the  care  with  which  you  provide  for  his 
happiness." 

"  It  is  very  true,  my  dear  Agathe,"  said  the  old  man,  "  she 
made  me  first  know  happiness ;  and  she  is  a  woman  full  of 
admirable  qualities." 

"  And  so,  brother,  you  cannot  reward  her  too  highly  ;  you 
ought  to  have  made  her  your  wife.  Yes  !  I  am  too  religious 
9.  woman  not  to  wish  that  I  might  see  you  obey  the  precepts 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  207 

of  religion.  You  would  both  be  the  happier  if  you  were  not 
at  war  with  law  and  morality.  I  came  here,  my  dear  brother, 
to  appeal  for  help  in  very  great  trouble  ;  but  do  not  imagine 
that  we  intended  to  make  the  slightest  remarks  on  the  way  in 
which  you  may  dispose  of  your  fortune." 

"Madame,"  said  Flore,  "we  know  that  your  father  was 
unjust  to  you.  Your  brother  can  tell  you,"  she  added,  staring 
hard  at  her  victim,  "  that  the  only  quarrels  we  have  ever  had, 
he  and  I,  have  been  about  you.  I  tell  monsieur  that  he  owes 
you  part  of  the  fortune  of  which  you  were  robbed  by  my  poor 
benefactor — for  he  was  my  benefactor,  your  father  was" — 
she  put  on  a  tearful  voice — "and  I  shall  never  forget  him; 
but  your  brother,  madame,  has  listened  to  reason " 

"Yes,"  said  old  Rouget,  "when  I  make  my  will,  you  will 
not  be  forgotten " 

"  We  will  not  talk  of  that,  brother  ;  you  do  not  know  yet 
what  my  character  is " 

From  these  beginnings  the  upshot  of  this  first  visit  may  be 
imagined.  Rouget  invited  his  sister  to  dinner  for  the  next 
day  but  one. 

During  these  three  days  the  Knights  of  Idlesse  caught  an 
enormous  number  of  rats,  mice,  and  field-mice,  which  were 
turned  out  starving  one  fine  night  among  the  seed-corn,  to 
the  number  of  four  hundred  and  thirty-six,  among  them  many 
mothers  with  young.  Not  satisfied  with  having  quartered 
these  pensioners  on  Fario,  the  knights  made  some  holes  in 
the  roof  of  the  old  chapel,  and  put  in  ten  pigeons  brought 
from  ten  different  farmsteads.  The  creatures  held  high  festi- 
val, with  all  the  greater  freedom  because  Fario's  boy  was  led 
away  by  another  young  rascal,  with  whom  he  drank  from 
morning  till  night,  taking  no  care  whatever  of  his  master's 
merchandise. 

Madame  Bridau,  in  opposition  to  old  Hochon's  opinion, 
believed  that  her  brother  had  not  yet  made  his  will  ;  she 
purposed  asking  him  what  his  intentions  were  with  regard  tQ 


208  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Mademoiselle  Brazier,  on  the  first  opportunity  she  might  find 
of  taking  a  walk  with  him  alone  ;  for  Max  and  Flore  con- 
stantly beguiled  her  with  this  hope,  which  was  always  de- 
ceived. 

Though  the  knights  of  the  order  all  tried  to  hit  on  a 
scheme  for  putting  the  two  Parisians  to  flight,  they  devised 
nothing  but  impossible  follies. 

Hence  at  the  end  of  a  week,  half  of  the  time  the  Bridaus 
were  to  spend  in  Issoudun,  they  were  no  farther  forward  than 
on  the  first  day. 

"Your  lawyer  does  not  know  what  a  country  town  is," 
said  old  Hochon  to  Madame  Bridau.  "  What  you  came  here 
to  do  cannot  be  done  in  fourteen  days,  nor  in  fourteen 
months.  You  would  have  to  be  constantly  with  your  brother, 
and  instill  into  him  some  ideas  of  religion.  You  can  only 
undermine  the  fortress  guarded  by  Flore  and  Maxence  by 
sapping  it  through  a  priest.  That  is  my  opinion,  and  it  is 
high  time  you  should  act  on  it." 

"You  have  strange  ideas  of  the  priesthood,"  said  Madame 
Hochon  to  her  husband. 

"  Oh  !  "  cried  the  old  man.  "  There  you  are,  you  godly 
people." 

"  God  will  not  bless  any  endeavor  that  is  based  on  sacri- 
lege," said  Madame  Bridau.  "To  make  use  of  religion  for 
such  a Oh  !     We  should  be  worse  than  Flore  !  " 

This  conversation  took  place  at  breakfast,  and  Francois 
and  Baruch  both  listened  with  open  ears. 

"Sacrilege!"  cried  old  Hochon.  "But  if  some  good 
abb6,  as  clever  as  others  I  have  known,  understood  the  predica- 
ment in  which  you  stand,  he  would  not  regard  it  as  sacrilege 
to  lead  home  to  God  your  brother's  erring  soul,  to  bring  him 
to  true  repentance  for  his  sins,  to  persuade  him  to  send  away 
the  woman  who  is  the  cause  of  the  scandal — providing  for 
her,  of  course — to  point  out  to  him  that  his  conscience  would 
rest  in  peace  if  he  only  left  a  few  thousand  francs  a  year  to 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  209 

the  archbishop's  little  seminary,  and  the  remainder  of  his 
fortune  to  his  legitimate  heirs." 

The  passive  obedience  exacted  by  the  old  miser  from  his 
children,  and  handed  down  to  his  grandchildren,  who  had 
indeed  been  left  to  his  guardianship,  and  for  whom  he  was 
amassing  a  large  fortune — doing  by  them,  he  was  wont  to  say, 
as  he  would  do  by  himself — did  not  allow  of  the  faintest  sign 
of  astonishment  or  disapproval  on  the  part  of  Baruch  and 
Francois  ;  but  they  exchanged  glances  full  of  meaning,  telling 
each  other  how  fatal  this  idea  would  be  to  Max's  interests. 

"The  truth  is,  raadame,"  said  Baruch,  "if  you  wish  to 
inherit  your  brother's  property,  the  only  real  way  is  this — 
you  must  remain  at  Issoudun  as  long  as  it  is  necessary  to 
employ  him " 

"  Mother,"  Joseph  put  in,  "  you  will  do  well  to  write  all 
this  to  Desroches.  For  my  part,  I  look  for  nothing  more 
from  my  uncle  than  what  he  has  so  kindly  given  me." 

After  assuring  himself  of  the  great  value  of  the  thirty-nine 
pictures,  Joseph  had  carefully  unmounted  the  canvasses,  then 
pasted  paper  over  them,  laid  each  one  over  another  flat  in  a 
huge  case,  and  addressed  it  by  carrier  to  Desroches,  to  whom 
he  meant  to  send  a  letter  of  advise.  This  precious  load  had 
been  sent  off  the  day  before. 

"You  are  cheaply  paid  off,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon. 

"But  I  shall  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  a  hundred  and 
fifty  thousand  francs  for  the  pictures,"  said  Joseph. 

"A  painter's  notion!"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  looking 
dubiously  at  Joseph. 

"Listen,"  said  Joseph,  turning  to  his  mother,  "  I  am  going 
to  write  to  Desroches  and  explain  the  state  of  affairs  here. 
If  he  advises  you  to  stay,  you  shall  stay.  As  to  your  place 
in  the  office,  we  can  always  find  something  else  as  good " 

"My  dear  boy,"  said  Madame  Hochon,  as  they  rose  from 
table,  "  I  do  not  know  what  your  uncle's  pictures  may  be, 
but  they  ought  to  be  good,  judging  by  the  places  they  came 
14 


210  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

from.  If  they  are  worth  even  forty  thousand  francs,  a  thou- 
sand francs  apiece,  tell  nobody.  Though  my  grandchildren 
are  discreet  and  well  brought  up,  they  might,  without  mean- 
ing any  mischief,  talk  about  this  supposed  treasure-trove  ;  all 
Issoudun  would  hear  of  it  and  the  foe  must  not  suspect  the 
truth.     You  really  behave  like  a  child  !  " 

In  point  of  fact,  by  midday  many  persons  in  Issoudun,  and 
foremost  of  all  Maxence  Gilet,  had  been  informed  of  Joseph's 
opinion,  which  led  to  a  great  hunt  for  old  pictures  that  had 
lain  forgotten,  and  to  the  disinterment  of  some  execrable 
daubs.  Max  repented  of  having  prompted  the  old  man  to 
give  away  the  pictures  ;  and  his  rage  against  the  rightful  heirs, 
on  learning  old  Hochon's  scheme,  was  increased  by  what  he 
called  his  stupidity.  Religious  influence  on  this  feeble  crea- 
ture was  the  only  thing  to  be  dreaded.  Hence  the  warning 
given  him  by  his  two  allies  confirmed  Max  in  his  determina- 
tion to  realize  all  Rouget's  mortgages,  and  to  borrow  on  his 
land  so  as  to  invest  in  state  securities  at  once.  But  he  con- 
sidered the  necessity  for  getting  rid  of  the  Parisians  as  even 
more  pressing.  Now  the  talents  of  a  Mascarille  or  a  Scapin 
would  have  found  this  a  hard  problem  to  solve. 

Flore,  counseled  by  Max,  began  to  say  that  monsieur  tired 
himself  too  much  by  taking  walks ;  that  at  his  age  he  needed 
carriage  exercise.  This  was  necessary  as  a  pretext  for  the 
expeditions  to  be  made,  without  the  neighbors  knowing  it, 
to  Bourges,  Vierzon,  ChSteauroux,  and  Vatan,  wherever  this 
scheme  for  calling  in  his  investments  might  require  that  Rou- 
get,  Max,  and  Flore  should  go.  So  by  the  end  of  the  week 
all  Issoudun  was  startled  by  the  news  that  Pere  Rouget  had 
sent  to  Bourges  for  a  carriage,  a  step  which  the  Knights  of 
Idlesse  interpreted  in  favor  of  La  Rabouilleuse.  Flore  and 
Max  purchased  a  hideous  traveling-chaise  with  rickety  windows 
and  a  split-leather  hood,  that  had  seen  two-and-twenty  years 
and  nine  campaigns  ;  this  they  bought  at  a  sale  on  the  death 
of  a  colonel,  a  great  friend  of  Marshal  Bertrand's,  who,  dur- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT,  211 

ing  the  absence  of  the  Emperor's  faithful  follower,  had  under- 
taken the  charge  of  his  estates  in  Berry.  This  vehicle,  painted 
dark-green,  was  not  unlike  a  barouche,  but  the  pole  had  been 
altered  and  shafts  substituted,  so  that  it  could  be  drawn  by 
one  horse.  It  was  now  one  of  those  carriages  which  reduced 
fortunes  have  made  so  fashionable,  which,  indeed,  were  hon- 
estly designated  as  demi-fortunes,  for  they  were  originally 
called  seringues.  The  lining  of  this  demi-fortune,  sold  as  a 
barouche,  was  moth-eaten  ;  the  trimmings  were  like  a  pension- 
er's stripes;  it  rattled  like  old  iron;  but  it  cost  no  more 
than  four  hundred  and  fifty  francs,  and  Max  bought  of  the 
troops  in  garrison  at  Bourges  a  strong,  well-broken  mare  to 
draw  it.  He  had  this  vehicle  repainted  dark-brown,  and 
found  a  fairly  good  set  of  second-hand  harness,  and  the  town 
of  Issoudun  was  agitated  from  top  to  bottom,  on  the  watch 
for  Pdre  Rouget's  "turn-out." 

The  first  time  the  old  man  made  use  of  his  barouche  the 
noise  brought  every  household  to  the  front  door  and  all  the 
windows  were  full  of  peeping  heads.  The  second  time  he 
drove  as  far  as  Bourges,  where,  to  avoid  all  further  trouble  in 
connection  with  the  transactions,  advised — or,  if  you  will,  com- 
manded— by  Flore  Brazier,  he  signed  in  the  notary's  office  a 
power  of  attorney  in  favor  of  Maxence  Gilet,  enabling  him 
to  transfer  all  the  moneys  mentioned  in  the  document.  Flore 
undertook  to  settle  with  monsieur  as  to  the  loans  in  Issoudun 
and  the  immediate  neighborhood.  Rouget  went  to  the  first 
notary  in  Bourges  and  desired  him  to  find  him  a  hundred  and 
forty  thousand  francs  on  the  security  of  his  land. 

No  one  at  Issoudun  knew  anything  about  these  proceedings, 
so  quietly  and  cleverly  carried  out.  Max,  a  good  horseman, 
could  get  to  Bourges  and  back  between  five  in  the  morning 
and  five  in  the  afternoon  on  his  horse,  and  Flore  never  left 
the  old  man.  Old  Rouget  had  consented  without  demur  to 
the  alterations  which  Flore  had  suggested  to  him  ;  but  he 
insisted   that  the  bond  bearing  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year 


212  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

interest  should  stand  as  life-interest  only  in  Mademoiselle 
Brazier's  name,  and  that  the  capital  should  remain  his  abso- 
lutely. The  tenacity  displayed  by  the  old  man  in  the  private 
struggle  which  arose  over  this  question  made  Max  very  un- 
easy, for  he  fancied  he  could  discern  in  it  some  reflections 
inspired  by  the  sight  of  his  natural  heirs. 

In  the  midst  of  these  great  changes,  which  Max  hoped  to 
conceal  from  the  prying  townsfolk,  he  forgot  the  corn-dealer. 
Fario  was  preparing  to  deliver  his  orders,  after  much  traveling 
and  bargaining,  with  a  view  to  raise  the  price  of  seed-corn. 
But  the  day  after  his  return  to  Issoudun,  living  opposite  the 
Capuchin  chapel,  he  saw  the  roof  black  with  pigeons.  He 
cursed  himself  for  having  neglected  to  examine  the  roof  and 
hastily  went  across  to  his  storehouse,  where  he  found  half  his 
corn  devoured.  Myriads  of  traces  left  by  mice,  rats,  and 
field-mice  betrayed  another  cause  of  the  ruin.  The  church 
was  a  perfect  Noah's  ark.  But  the  Spaniard  turned  as  white 
as  linen  with  fury  when,  on  trying  to  calculate  the  extent  of 
the  loss  and  damage,  he  discovered  that  the  lower  strata  of 
grain  were  soaked  and  sprouting,  from  a  quantity  of  water 
having  been  injected  into  the  heart  of  the  corn-heaps  by 
means  of  a  tin  tube — an  idea  of  Max's.  Pigeons  and  rats 
might  be  accounted  for  by  animal  instinct ;  but  in  this  last 
piece  of  malice  the  hand  of  man  was  evident. 

Fario  sat  down  on  an  altar-step  in  a  side  chapel,  and  hid 
his  head  in  his  hands.  After  half  an  hour's  meditations — a 
Spaniard's  meditations — on  looking  up,  he  saw  the  squirrel 
which  young  Goddet  had  insisted  on  placing  there  as  boarder, 
playing  with  its  tail  on  the  transom  supporting  the  roof-beam. 
Tlie  Spaniard  rose  calmly,  showing  his  shop-clerk  a  face  as 
impassive  as  an  Arab's.  Fario  made  no  lamentation.  He 
went  home,  found  some  laborers  to  pack  tlie  good  corn,  and 
spread  what  was  damp  in  the  sun  to  dry,  so  as  to  save  as 
much  as  possible  ;  then  he  set  to  work  to  deliver  his  orders, 
calculating  the  loss  at  three-fifths.     But  as  his  own  transac- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  213 

tions  had  sent  prices  up,  he  lost  again  in  repurchasing  those 
three-fifths  ;  thus  his  total  loss  was  of  more  than  half. 

The  corn-dealer,  who  had  no  enemies,  unerringly  attributed 
this  piece  of  revenge  to  Gilet.  It  was  clear  to  him  that  Max 
and  some  others,  the  inventors  of  so  many  nocturnal  pranks, 
had  undoubtedly  dragged  his  cart  up  to  the  tower  and  amused 
themselves  by  ruining  him  ;  his  loss,  indeed,  amounted  to  a 
thousand  crowns,  almost  all  the  capital  he  had  laboriously 
accumulated  since  the  peace.  Inspired  by  the  hope  of  re- 
venge, the  man  put  forth  all  the  perseverance  and  acumen  of 
a  spy  who  has  been  promised  a  handsome  reward.  Lurking 
in  ambush  by  night  in  the  town,  he  obtained  absolute  proof 
of  the  proceedings  of  the  Knights  of  Idlesse  ;  he  saw  them, 
he  counted  them  ;  he  watched  their  trysts,  and  their  suppers 
at  La  Cognette's  ;  then  he  hid  himself  to  witness  one  of  their 
tricks,  and  became  familiar  with  their  nocturnal  doings. 

In  spite  of  his  rides  and  his  anxieties,  Max  would  not  neglect 
this  business  of  the  night ;  in  the  first  place,  to  prevent  any 
one  suspecting  the  grand  financial  operations  carried  on  with 
Pere  Rouget's  investments ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  to  keep 
his  friends  up  to  the  mark.  Now  the  order  had  agreed  to 
achieve  a  stroke  which  should  be  talked  of  for  years.  On  a 
certain  night  every  watch-dog  in  the  town  and  suburbs  was 
to  have  a  pill  of  poison.  Fario  overheard  them  as  they  came 
out  of  La  Cognette's,  chuckling  beforehand  over  the  success 
of  this  practical  joke,  and  the  universal  mourning  to  be  caused 
by  this  massacre  of  the  innocents.  Besides,  what  fears  this 
general  execution  would  give  rise  to,  by  hinting  at  sinister 
designs  on  the  houses  thus  deprived  of  their  guardians  ! 

"  Fario's  cart  will  be  quite  forgotten  perhaps,"  said  Goddet. 

Fario  no  longer  needed  this  speech  to  confirm  his  suspi- 
cions ;  besides,  he  had  laid  his  plans. 

After  a  stay  of  three  weeks,  Agathe,  like  Madame  Hochon, 
recognized  the  truth  of  the  old  miser's  views — it  would  take 


214  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

years  to  counteract  the  influence  exerted  over  her  brother  by 
La  Rabouilleuse  and  Max.  Agathe  had  made  no  progress  in 
Jean-Jacques'  confidence ;  she  had  never  been  left  alone  with 
him.  On  the  contrar)',  Mademoiselle  Brazier  triumphed  over 
the  heirs  by  taking  Agathe  out  driving  in  the  carriage,  seated 
by  her  on  the  back  seat,  while  Monsieur  Rouget  and  his 
nephew  sat  in  front.  Mother  and  son  anxiously  awaited  a 
reply  to  their  confidential  letter  to  Desroches. 

On  the  very  eve  of  the  day  when  the  watch-dogs  were  to  be 
poisoned,  Joseph,  who  was  dying  of  weariness  at  Issoudun, 
received  two  letters — one  from  Schinner,  the  great  painter, 
whose  age  allowed  of  a  closer  and  more  intimate  acquaintance 
than  with  Gros,  their  master,  and  the  other  from  Desroches 
The  following  was  the  first,  bearing  the  stamp  of  Beaumont 
sur-Oise : 

"  My  dear  Joseph  : — I  have  finished  the  most  importan 
paintings  in  the  Chateau  de  Presles  for  the  Comte  de  Serizy. 
I  have  left  the  borders  and  decorative  panels ;  and  I  have  sr 
strongly  recommended  you  to  the  Count,  and  to  Grindot,  his 
architect,  that  you  have  only  to  pack  up  your  brushes  an(?, 
come.     The  prices  agreed  on  will  satisfy  you.     I  am  off  to 
Italy  with  my  wife,  so  you  can  have  Mistigris  to  help  you. 
The  young  rascal  is  clever  ;  I  place  him  at  your  service.     He 
is  as  lively  as  a  Pierrot  already  at  the  idea  of  enjoying  himself 
at  Presles.     Farewell,   my  dear  Joseph;   if  I  am  away  and 
send  nothing  to  the  next  Salon,  you  must  fill  my  place.     Yes,     ■ 
dear  Jojo,  your  picture  is  a  masterpiece,  I  am  sure  of  it ;  but    ^ 
a  masterpiece  that  will  raise  a  hue  and  cry  of  '  Romanticism  !* 
and  you  are  preparing  a  life  for  yourself  like  tliat  of  the  devil 
in  holy  water.     But,  after  all,  as  that  rogue  Mistigris  says — he 
transposes  or  puns  on    every    proverb — life  is  bad   to    beat. 
What  on  earth  are  you  doing  at  Issoudun  ?     Farewell. 

**  Your  friend, 

"Schinner." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  215 

This  was  Desroches'  letter  : 

"  My  dear  Joseph  : — Your  Monsieur  Hochon  seems  to  me 
an  old  man  of  great  good  sense,  and  you  give  me  a  high  idea 
of  his  intelligence  ;  he  is  perfectly  right.  And,  since  you  ask 
my  opinion,  I  think  your  mother  should  stay  at  Issoudun  with 
Madame  Hochon,  paying  a  small  sum,  say  four  hundred  francs 
a  year,  as  compensation  for  her  board.  Madame  Bridau,  I 
should  say,  should  be  entirely  guided  by  Monsieur  Hochon's 
advice.  But  your  excellent  mother  will  be  full  of  scruples  in 
opposition  to  people  who  have  none,  and  whose  conduct 
shows  a  masterly  policy.  That  Maxence  is  a  dangerous 
fellow,  you  are  right  there  ;  he  is  a  man  of  far  stronger  temper 
than  Philippe.  This  rascal  makes  his  vices  serve  his  fortunes  ; 
he  does  not  amuse  himself  for  nothing,  like  your  brother,  whose 
follies  were  never  of  any  use.  All  you  tell  me  appalls  me,  for 
I  could  not  do  much  by  going  to  Issoudun.  Monsieur  Hochon, 
acting  through  your  mother,  will  be  of  more  use  than  I  can  be. 

"  As  for  you,  you  may  as  well  come  home ;  you  are  of  no 
good  at  all  in  a  business  requiring  constant  alertness,  minute 
observation,  servile  attentions,  discretion  in  speech,  and  dis- 
simulation in  looks — all  quite  antipathetic  to  an  artist.  If 
they  tell  you  there  is  no  will,  they  have  had  one  made  a  long 
time  since,  you  may  be  sure.  But  wills  are  not  irrevocable ; 
and  as  long  as  your  imbecile  uncle  lives,  he  will  certainly  be 
open  to  the  influence  of  remorse  and  religion.  Your  fortune 
will  be  the  result  of  a  pitched  battle  between  the  church  and 
La  Rabouilleuse.  A  moment  will  inevitably  come  when  that 
woman  will  lose  her  power  over  the  old  man,  and  religion 
will  be  all-powerful.  So  long  as  your  uncle  has  made  nothing 
over  to  them  by  deed  of  gift,  nor  altered  his  investments  and 
holdings,  at  the  moment  when  religion  gets  the  upper  hand 
everything  will  be  possible. 

"  You  had  better  beg  Monsieur  Hochon  to  keep  an  eye  as 
far  as  possible  on  your  uncle's  possessions.     It  is  important  to 


216  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

ascertain  whether  he  holds  mortgages,  and  how  and  in  whose 
name  the  deeds  are  drawn.  It  is  so  easy  to  fill  an  old  man 
with  fears  for  his  life  when  he  is  stripping  himself  of  his 
property  in  favor  of  strangers,  that  a  rightful  heir  with  a  very 
little  cunning  can  nip  such  spoliations  in  the  bud.  But  is 
your  mother,  with  her  ignorance  of  the  world,  her  disin- 
terestedness, and  her  religious  ideas,  a  likely  person  to  manage 
such  an  intrigue  ? 

"  In  short,  I  can  only  explain  the  position.  What  you 
have  done  so  far  must  have  given  the  alarm,  and  perhaps  your 
antagonists  are  taking  steps  to  protect  themselves." 

"That  is  what  I  call  sound  advice,  kindly  given  !  "  cried 
Monsieur  Hochon,  proud  of  finding  himself  appreciated  by  a 
Paris  attorney. 

"  Oh,  Desroches  is  a  capital  good  fellow,"  said  Joseph. 

"  It  might  be  useful  to  show  that  letter  to  the  two  women," 
said  the  old  man. 

''Here  it  is,"  said  Joseph,  giving  the  letter  to  Hochon. 
"As  for  me,  I  will  be  off  to-morrow  and  will  go  to  take 
leave  of  my  uncle." 

"Ah!"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  "I  see  that  in  a  post- 
script Monsieur  Desroches  desires  you  to  burn  the  letter." 

"  Burn  it  after  showing  it  to  my  mother,"  said  the  painter. 

Joseph  Bridau  dressed,  crossed  the  little  avenue,  and  was 
shown  in  to  his  uncle,  who  was  just  finishing  breakfast.  Max 
and  Flore  were  at  table  with  him. 

"  Do  not  disturb  yourself,  my  dear  uncle;  I  have  come  to 
take  leave  of  you." 

"  You  are  going  ?  "  said  Max  with  a  look  at  Flore. 

"  Yes,  I  have  some  work  to  do  at  Monsieur  de  Serizy's 
chateau,  and  I  am  all  the  more  eager  because  he  has  a  long 
enough  arm  to  be  of  service  to  my  poor  brother  with  the 
supreme  court." 

"  Well,  well ;  work,"  said  the  old  man,  with  a  stupid  look, 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  217 

and  indeed  Rouget  seemed  to  Joseph  extraordinarily  altered. 
"You  must  work.     I  am  sorry  you  are  going " 

"Oh,  my  mother  will  remain  some  time  yet,"  replied 
Joseph. 

Max  gave  his  lips  a  twist,  which  conveyed  to  the  house- 
keeper, "  They  are  going  to  act  on  the  plan  Baruch  spoke 
of." 

"I  am  very  glad  I  came,"  Joseph  went  on,  "for  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  making  your  acquaintance,  and  you  have 
enriched  my  studio." 

"Yes,  indeed!"  said  La  Rabouilleuse,  "instead  of  en- 
lightening your  uncle  as  to  the  value  of  the  pictures,  which  is 
said  to  be  more  than  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  you  packed 
them  off  to  Paris  pretty  quick.     Poor,  dear  man,  he  is  like  a 

child Why,  I  have  just  been  told  that  there  is  at  Bourges 

a  little  Poulet — I  mean  a  Poussin — which  was  in  the  cathedral 
before  the  Revolutiony  and  that  alone  is  worth  thirty  thou- 
sand francs." 

"That  was  not  right,  nephew,"  said  the  old  man,  at  a  nod 
from  Max,  which  Joseph  could  not  see. 

"  Come,  now,  honestly,"  said  the  soldier,  laughing,  "on 
your  honor,  what  do  you  suppose  your  pictures  are  worth? 
By  Jove  !  you  have  jockeyed  your  uncle  very  prettily.  Well, 
you  had  a  right  to  do  it.  Uncles  are  made  to  be  plundered. 
Nature  bestowed  no  uncles  on  me ;  but,  by  all  that's  holy,  if 
I  had  any,  I  would  not  spare  them  !  " 

"Did  you  know,  monsieur,"  asked  Flore  of  Roiiget,  "how 
much  your  pictures  were  worth  ?  How  much  did  you  say, 
Monsieur  Joseph  ?  " 

"Well,"  said  the  painter,  turning  as  red  as  a  beet-root, 
"  the  pictures  are  worth  a  good  round  sum." 

"It  is  said  that  you  valued  them  at  a  hundred  and  fifty 
thousand  francs  to  Monsieur  Hochon.     Is  that  true?" 

"  Yes,"  said  the  painter,  as  candid  as  a  child. 

"And  had  you  any  intention,"  said  Flore  to  the  old  man, 


218  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"of  giving  your  nephew  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
francs  ? ' ' 

"Never,  never,"  cried  Rouget,  on  whom  Flore  had  fixed 
a  steady  eye. 

"It  is  quite  easily  settled,"  said  the  painter.  " I  will  send 
them  back  to  you,  uncle." 

"  No,  no,  keep  them,"  said  the  old  fellow. 

"I  will  send  them  back,  uncle,"  repeated  Joseph,  offended 
by  the  insulting  silence  of  Maxence  Gilet  and  Flore  Brazier. 
"  I  have  in  my  brush  the  means  of  making  my  fortune,  with- 
out owing  anything  to  anybody — even  to  my  uncle.  I  wish 
you  good-day,  mademoiselle.     Good-morning,  monsieur." 

And  Joseph  recrossed  the  road  in  a  state  of  irritation  which 
an  artist  may  conceive  of.  All  the  Hochon  family  were  in 
the  sitting-room.  Seeing  Joseph  gesticulating  and  muttering 
to  himself,  they  inquired  what  was  the  matter.  Then,  before 
Baruch  and  Francois,  the  painter,  as  open  as  the  day,  repeated 
the  scene  he  had  just  gone  through,  which,  in  a  couple  of 
hours  was  the  talk  of  the  whole  town,  every  one  embroidering 
the  story  with  more  or  less  impudent  additions.  Some  main- 
tained that  the  painter  had  been  roughly  handled  by  Max, 
others  that  he  had  been  insolent  to  Mademoiselle  Brazier, 
and  that  Max  had  turned  him  out  of  the  house. 

"  Oh,  what  a  child  your  boy  is  !  "  said  Hochon  to  Madame 
Bridau.  "  The  simple  fellow  has  been  fooled  by  a  scene  gotten 
up  for  the  day  when  he  should  be  leaving.  Why,  Max  and 
La  Rabouilleuse  have  known  for  this  fortnight  past  what  the 
value  of  the  pictures  is,  since  Joseph  was  so  silly  as  to  mention 
it  in  the  presence  of  my  grandsons,  who  were  only  too  eager 
to  repeat  it  to  all  the  world.  Your  artist  ought  to  have  left 
without  notice." 

"  My  son  is  right  to  restore  the  pictures  if  they  are  so 
valuable,"  said  Agathe. 

"  If  they  are  worth  two  hundred  thousand  francs,  by  his 
account,"  said  old  Hochon,   "  he  is  an   idiot   for  allowing 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  210 

himself  to  be  compelled  to  return  them  ;  for,  at  any  rate, 
you  would  have  had  that  much  of  the  property,  whereas, 
as  matters  stand,  you  will  get  nothing  !  And  this  is  almost 
reason  enough  for  your  brother  to  refuse  to  see  you  again." 

Between  midnight  and  one  in  the  morning  the  Knights  of 
Idlesse  began  their  distribution  of  free  rations  to  the  dogs  of 
the  town.  This  memorable  expedition  ended  only  at  three 
in  the  morning,  and  then  the  mischievous  wretches  met  for 
supper  at  La  Cognette's.  At  half-past  four,  in  the  morning 
twilight,  they  crept  home.  At  the  instant  when  Max  turned 
out  of  the  Rue  de  I'Avenier  into  the  Grand'  Rue,  Fario, 
in  ambush  in  a  recess,  stabbed  him  with  a  knife,  aiming 
straight  at  the  heart,  pulled  out  the  weapon,  and  fled  to  the 
moat  by  La  Villate,  where  he  wiped  the  knife  on  his  handker- 
chief. The  Spaniard  then  rinsed  the  handkerchief  in  the 
"borrowed  stream,"  and  quietly  went  home  to  Saint-Paterne, 
where  he  went  to  bed,  getting  in  at  a  window  he  had  left  un- 
fastened ;  his  new  shop-boy  woke  him  next  morning,  finding 
him  sound  asleep. 

Max  as  he  fell  uttered  a  fearful  shriek,  too  genuine  to  be 
misunderstood.  Lousteau-Prangin,  the  son  of  a  magistrate, 
a  distant  relation  of  the  late  sub-delegate,  and  young  Goddet, 
who  both  lived  at  the  bottom  of  the  Grand'  Rue,  ran  up  the 
street  again  as  fast  as  they  could  fly,  saying,  "  Max  is  being 
killed  !  Help  !  "  But  not  a  dog  barked,  and  the  inhabitants, 
inured  to  the  tricks  of  these  night-birds,  did  not  stir. 

When  the  two  knights  came  up  Max  had  fainted.  It  was 
necessary  to  call  up  Monsieur  Goddet  the  elder.  Max  had 
recognized  Fario  ;  but  when,  at  five  in  the  morning,  he  had 
fully  recovered  his  wits,  seeing  himself  surrounded  by  several 
persons,  and  feeling  that  the  wound  was  not  mortal,  it  sud- 
denly struck  him  that  he  might  take  advantage  of  this 
attempted  murder,  and  he  exclaimed  in  a  feeble  voice,  **I 
fancied  I  saw  the  eyes  and  face  of  that  damned  painter." 


220  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Upon  this,  Lousteau-Prangin  ran  off  to  fetch  his  father,  the 
examining  judge.  Max  was  carried  home  by  old  Cognet, 
the  younger  Goddet,  and  two  men  whom  they  got  out  of  bed. 
La  Cognette  and  Goddet  senior  walked  by  the  side  of  Max, 
who  was  laid  on  a  mattress  placed  on  two  poles.  Monsieur 
Goddet  would  do  nothing  till  Max  was  in  his  bed. 

Those  who  carried  him  naturally  looked  across  at  Hochon's 
house  while  Kouski  was  getting  up,  and  they  saw  the  woman- 
servant  sweeping.  In  this  house,  as  in  most  country  places, 
the  door  was  opened  at  a  very  early  hour.  The  only  words 
Max  had  spoken  had  aroused  suspicion,  and  the  surgeon  called 
across  the  road — 

"  Gritte,  is  Monsieur  Joseph  Bridau  in  bed?" 

"  Dear  me,"  said  she,  "  he  went  out  at  about  half- past  four ; 
he  walked  up  and  down  his  room  all  night.  I  can't  think 
what  had  taken  him." 

"  A  pretty  fellow,  is  your  painter  !  "  said  one  and  another. 

And  the  party  went  in,  leaving  the  woman  in  consterna- 
tion ;  she  had  seen  Max  lying  on  the  mattress,  his  shirt 
stained  with  blood,  apparently  dying. 

What  had  "taken"  Joseph  and  disturbed  him  all  night, 
every  artist  will  understand.  He  pictured  himself  as  the  talk 
of  Issoudun  ;  he  was  supposed  to  be  a  sharper,  anything  but 
what  he  wanted  to  be — an  honest  fellow,  a  hard-working 
artist.  He  would  have  given  his  own  picture  to  be  able  to 
fly  like  a  swallow  to  Paris  and  fling  his  uncle's  pictures  in 
Max's  face.  To  be  the  victim  and  to  be  thought  the  spoiler ! 
What  a  mockery  !  And  so  at  daybreak  he  had  rushed  out  of 
the  house,  and  was  pacing  the  avenue  of  poplars  leading  to 
Tivoli  to  walk  off"  his  excitement.  While  the  innocent  youth 
was  promising  himself,  by  way  of  consolation,  never  to  set 
foot  in  the  place  again,  Max  was  preparing  for  him  a  catas- 
trophe full  of  horror  to  a  sensitive  mind. 

As  soon  as  Monsieur  Goddet  had  probed  the  wound,  and 
ascertained  that  the  knife,  turned  by  a  little  pocket-book,  had 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  221 

happily  missed  aim,  though  it  had  left  a  frightful  gash,  he  did 
as  all  doctors  do,  and  especially  country  surgeons — he  gave 
himself  airs  of  importance,  and  "  could  not  answer  for  the 
patient's  life."  Then,  after  dressing  the  rascally  soldier's 
wound,  he  went  away.  This  medical  verdict  he  repeated  to 
La  Rabouilleuse,  to  Jean-Jacques  Rouget,  to  Kouski,  and 
Vedie.  La  Rabouilleuse  went  back  to  her  dear  Max  drowned 
in  tears,  while  Kouski  and  Vedie  informed  the  crowd  assem- 
bled at  the  door  that  the  captain  was  as  good  as  done  for. 
The  result  of  this  news  was  that  above  two  hundred  persons 
collected  in  groups  on  the  Place  Saint-Jean  and  in  the  upper 
and  lower  Narette. 

"  I  shall  not  be  in  bed  a  month,"  said  Max  to  Flore,  "  and 
I  know  who  struck  the  blow.  But  we  will  take  advantage  of 
it  to  get  rid  of  the  Parisians.  I  said  I  fancied  I  had  recog- 
nized the  painter  ;  so  pretend  that  I  am  dying  and  try  to 
have  Joseph  Bridau  arrested  ;  we  will  give  him  a  taste  of 
prison  for  a  couple  of  days.  I  think  I  know  the  mother  well 
enough  to  feel  sure  that  she  will  be  off  to  Paris  then  post- 
haste with  her  painter.  Then  we  need  no  longer  fear  the 
volley  of  priests  they  talked  of  firing  at  our  old  idiot." 

When  Flore  Brazier  went  down  she  found  the  mob  quite 
prepared  to  receive  the  impression  she  wished  to  make  on 
them  ;  she  appeared  before  them  with  tears  in  her  eyes  and 
remarked  that  the  painter,  "who  for  that  matter  looked  bad 
enough  for  anything,"  had  quarreled  fiercely  with  Max  the 
day  before  about  the  pictures  he  had  "boned"  from  Pere 
Rouget.  "  That  brigand — for  you  have  only  to  look  in  his 
face  to  feel  sure — thinks  that  if  Max  were  out  of  the  way 
his  uncle  would  leave  him  his  fortune.  As  if,"  added  she, 
"a  brother  wasn't  closer  than  a  nephew!  Max  is  Doctor 
Rouget's  son  ;  the  old  man  owned  up  as  much  afore  he  died." 

"Ay,  he  thought  he  could  do  the  trick  before  he  left;  he 
planned  it  very  neatly;  he  is  going  to-day,"  said  one  of  the 
Knights  of  Idlesse. 


222  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"Max  has  not  a  single  enemy  in  the  town,"  observed  an- 
other. 

"Besides,  Max  recognized  the  painter,"  said  La  Rabouil- 
leuse. 

"  Where  is  that  damned  Parisian  ?  Let  us  find  him,"  cried 
one  and  another. 

"  Find  him  ?  Why,  he  stole  out  of  Monsieur  Hochon's 
house  before  daylight." 

One  of  the  knights  at  once  ran  off  to  find  Monsieur  Mouil- 
leron.  The  crowd  was  still  swelling,  and  voices  grew  threat- 
ening. Excited  groups  filled  the  whole  of  the  Grande  Narette; 
others  stood  in  front  of  the  church  of  Saint-Jean.  A  mob 
filled  the  Villate  gate  where  the  lower  Narette  ends.  It  was 
impossible  to  stir  above  or  below  the  Place  Saint-Jean.  It 
was  like  the  fag-end  of  a  procession.  And  Messieurs  Lous- 
teau-Prangin  and  Mouilleron,  with  the  superintendent  of 
police,  the  lieutenant  of  the  gendarmerie,  and  his  sergeant 
with  two  gendarmes,  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  to  the 
spot,  which  they  reached  between  two  hedges  of  the  populace, 
whose  shouts  and  yells  could  not  fail  to  prejudice  them  against 
the  "Parisian,"  to  whom  circumstantial  evidence  pointed  so 
strongly  although  he  was  unjustly  accused. 

After  an  interview  between  Max  and  the  lawyers,  Monsieur 
Mouilleron  sent  the  superintendent  of  police  and  the  sergeant, 
with  one  gendarme,  to  examine  what,  in  the  language  of 
police  reports,  is  called  the  scene  of  the  crime.  Then  Mouil- 
leron and  Lousteau-Prangin,  escorted  by  the  lieutenant,  crossed 
from  Pere  Rouget's  house  to  Monsieur  Hochon's,  which  was 
guarded  at  the  garden  entrance  by  two  gendarmes,  while  two 
more  were  posted  at  the  street-door.  The  mob  was  still  col- 
lecting ;  the  whole  town  was  in  a  hubbub  in  the  Grand'  Rue. 

Gritte  had  long  since  flown,  breathless  with  terror,  to  her 
master's  room,  exclaiming — 

"  Monsieur,  they  are  going  to  rob  the  house.  All  the  town 
is  in  a  riot  !     Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  is  killed  ;  he  is  going 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  223 

to  die  !  And  they  say  that  it  was  Monsieur  Joseph  that 
stabbed  him  !  " 

Monsieur  Hochon  hastily  dressed  and  came  down  ;  but  see- 
ing the  furious  crowd,  he  at  once  retreated  within  doors  and 
barred  the  entrance.  On  questioning  Gritte  he  ascertained 
that  his  guest,  after  walking  about  all  night  in  great  excite- 
ment, had  gone  out  before  daylight,  and  that  he  had  not 
come  in.  Much  alarmed  he  went  to  his  wife's  room — the 
noise  had  just  aroused  her — and  told  her  the  horrible  report, 
which,  true  or  false,  had  brought  all  Issoudun  out  to  the  Place 
Saint-Jean. 

**  Of  course  he  is  innocent !  "  said  Madame  Hochon. 

"But  before  his  innocence  is  proved  the  mob  may  force 
their  way  in  and  rob  us,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  who  had 
turned  ashy  pale.     He  had  gold  in  his  cellars. 

"And  Agathe?" 

"She  is  sleeping  like  a  marmot." 

"Ah,  so  much  the  better,"  said  Madame  Hochon;  "I 
only  wish  she  could  sleep  on  till  this  matter  is  cleared  up. 
Such  a  blow  might  kill  the  poor  child." 

But  Agathe  soon  awoke  ;  she  came  down  half-dressed,  for 
Gritte's  hints  and  concealments,  when  she  questioned  the 
woman,  had  sickened  her  heart  and  brain.  She  found  Mad- 
ame Hochon  pale  and  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  standing  at  one 
of  the  drawing-room  windows  with  her  husband. 

"Courage,  my  child!  God  sends  us  all  our  troubles," 
said  the  old  lady.     "  Joseph  is  accused " 

"Of  what?" 

"Of  a  wicked  deed  he  cannot  possibly  have  done,"  said 
Madame  Hochon. 

On  hearing  this  speech,  and  seeing  the  lieutenant  of  the 
watch  come  in  with  Messieurs  Lousteau-Prangin  and  Mouil- 
leron,  Agathe  fainted  away. 

"Look  here,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon  to  his  wife  and 
Gritte,  "just  carry  Madame  Bridau  away.     Women  are  only 


224  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

a  trouble  under  such  circumstances.  Go  away,  both  of  you, 
with  her  and  stay  in  your  room.  Gentlemen,  pray  be  seated," 
added  the  old  man.  "The  mistake  to  which  we  owe  this 
visit  will,  I  hope,  soon  be  cleared  up." 

"  Even  if  it  is  a  mistake,"  said  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  "  the 
mob  are  so  madly  exasperated  and  excited  to  such  a  pitch 
that  I  am  alarmed  for  the  accused.  I  wish  I  could  get  him 
to  the  court-house,  and  soothe  the  public  mind." 

"  Who  could  have  imagined  that  Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet 
was  so  much  beloved  ?  "  said  Lousteau-Prangin. 

"  There  are  twelve  hundred  people  at  this  moment  pouring 
out  of  the  Roman  suburb,"  said  the  lieutenant,  *'so  one  of 
my  men  has  just  told  me — and  shrieking  for  the  assassin's 
death." 

"  Where  is  your  guest  ?  "  asked  Monsieur  Mouilleron. 

"  He  is  gone  for  a  walk  in  the  country,  I  believe,"  said 
Hochon. 

"Call  back  Gritte,"  said  the  examining  judge  gravely. 
"I  hoped  that  Monsieur  Bridau  might  not  have  left  the 
house.  You  know,  of  course,  that  the  crime  was  committed 
only  a  few  yards  from  this  house,  just  at  daybreak  ?  " 

While  Monsieur  Hochon  went  to  fetch  Gritte,  the  three 
functionaries  exchanged  glances  full  of  meaning. 

"I  never  took  to  that  painter's  face,"  said  the  lieutenant 
to  Monsieur  Mouille'Hjn. 

"Listen  to  me,"  said  the  lawyer  to  Gritte,  as  she  came  in. 
"  You  saw  Monsieur  Joseph  Bridau  go  out  this  morning,  I  am 
told?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  she,  shaking  like  a  leaf. 

"  At  what  hour  ?  " 

"  Directly  after  I  got  up;  for  he  was  tramping  in  his  room 
all  night,  and  he  was  dressed  when  I  came  down." 

"Was  it  daylight?" 

"Twilight." 

**  And  he  seemed  excited  ?  " 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  225 

"  I  should  think  he  did  ! — he  seemed  to  me  quite  how- 
come-you-so." 

"  Send  one  of  your  men  for  my  clerk,"  said  Lousteau- 
Prangin  to  the  lieutenant,  "  and  tell  him  to  bring  forms " 

"  Good  God  !  don't  be  in  a  hurry,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon. 
*'The  young  man's  excitement  may  be  accounted  for  without 
any  premeditated  crime.  He  is  starting  for  Paris  to-day  in 
consequence  of  a  matter  in  which  Gilet  and  Mademoiselle 
Flore  Brazier  chose  to  doubt  his  honesty." 

"Yes,  the  business  about  the  pictures,"  said  Monsieur 
Mouilleron.  "  It  was  the  cause  of  a  vehement  quarrel  yester- 
day, and  artists  are  always  ready  to  catch  fire  under  the  thatch, 
as  they  say. ' ' 

"  Who  in  all  Issoudun  would  have  any  interest  in  killing 
Max?"  said  Lousteau.  "Nobody;  no  jealous  husband,  no 
one  whatever,  for  the  man  has  never  injured  any  one." 

"  But  what  was  Monsieur  Gilet  doing  in  the  streets  at  half- 
past  four  in  the  morning?"  asked  Monsieur  Hochon  of  the 
officers  of  the  law. 

"  Look  here.  Monsieur  Hochon,  leave  us  to  manage  our 
own  business,"  replied  Mouilleron.  "You  do  not  know  all. 
Max  saw  and  knew  your  painter " 

At  this  instant  a  roar  started  from  the  bottom  of  the  town, 
increasing  as  it  rolled  up  the  Grande  Narette  like  the  advance 
of  a  peal  of  thunder. 

"Here  he  is! — here  he  is!  They  have  him!"  These 
words  stood  out  clearly  above  the  deep  bass  of  a  terrific 
growl  from  the  mob.  In  fact,  poor  Joseph  Bridau,  coming 
quietly  home  past  the  mill  at  Landrole  to  be  in  time  for 
breakfast,  was  seen  as  he  reached  the  Place  Misere  by  every- 
body at  once.  Happily  for  him,  two  men  at  arms  came 
running  down  to  rescue  him  from  the  mob  of  the  Roman 
suburb,  who  had  already  seized  him  roughly  by  the  arms, 
threatening  to  kill  him. 

"Make  way!     Clear  out!"  said   the   gendarmes,  calling 
15 


226  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

two  Others  to  come  and  walk  one  in  front  and  one  behind 
Bridau. 

"  You  see,  monsieur,"  said  one  of  the  four  who  had  taken 
hold  of  him,  "  our  skin  is  in  danger  at  this  moment  as  much 
as  yours.  Innocent  or  guilty,  we  must  protect  you  against 
the  riot  caused  by  the  murder  of  Captain  Gilet ;  these  people 
will  not  be  satisfied  with  accusing  you ;  they  believe  you  to  be 
the  assassin  as  sure  as  death.  Monsieur  Gilet  is  worshiped 
by  those  men — look  at  them ;  they  would  love  to  execute  jus- 
tice on  you  themselves.  We  saw  them  in  1830  when  they 
thrashed  the  excise  men  ;  it  was  no  joke,  I  can  tell  you." 

Joseph  Bridau  turned  as  pale  as  death,  and  collected  all  his 
strength  to  keep  on  his  feet. 

"After  all,"  said  he,  "  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Come 
on  !  " 

And  he  had  to  bear  his  cross  !  He  was  the  object  of  yells, 
abuse,  threats  of  death,  at  every  step  of  the  liorrible  walk  from 
tlie  Place  Misere  to  the  Place  Saint-Jean.  Tlie  gendarmes 
were  obliged  to  draw  their  swords  to  intimidate  the  angry 
crowd  who  threw  stones  at  them.  The  force  barely  escaped 
being  hurt,  and  some  of  the  missiles  hit  Joseph's  legs, 
shoulders,  and  hat. 

"  Here  we  are,"  said  one  of  the  men,  as  they  went  into 
Monsieur  Hochon's  room;  "and  it  was  not  an  easy  job, 
lieutenant." 

"  Now,  the  next  thing  is  to  disperse  this  crowd,  and  I  see 
but  one  way,  gentlemen,"  said  the  officer  to  the  magistrates. 
"  It  is  to  get  Monsieur  Bridau  to  the  Palais  de  Justice  by 
making  him  walk  between  you.  I  and  all  my  men  will  keep 
close  round  you.  It  is  impossible  to  answer  for  what  may 
happen  when  you  are  face  to  face  with  six  thousand  furious 
creatures." 

"You  are  right,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  still  quaking  for 
his  gold. 

"If  that  is  the  best  way  you  have  at  Issoudun  of  protecting 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  227 

innocence,  I  must  congratulate  you  !  "  said  Joseph.     "I  have 
already  been  within  an  ace  of  being  stoned " 

"  Do  you  want  to  see  your  host's  house  attacked  and  pil- 
laged ?  "  said  the  lieutenant.  "  Could  we,  with  our  swords, 
offer  effectual  resistance  to  a  surge  of  men  driven  on  by  a 
posse  of  angry  people  who  know  nothing  of  the  forms  of 
justice  !  " 

"  Oh  !  come  on,  gentlemen  ;  we  will  talk  it  out  afterwards," 
replied  Joseph,  who  had  recovered  his  presence  of  mind. 

"  Make  way,  my  friends,"  said  the  lieutenant,  "he  is  ar- 
rested ;  we  are  going  to  take  him  to  the  Palais  de  Justice." 

"Respect  the  law,  my  good  fellows!"  said  Monsieur 
Mouilleron. 

"  Would  you  not  sooner  see  him  guillotined? "  said  one  of 
the  gendarmes  to  a  menacing  group. 

"Ay,  ay!"  cried  an  infuriated  bystander.  "Guillotine 
him!  " 

"  He  is  to  be  guillotined  !  "  repeated  some  women. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  Grande  Narette  they  were  saying — 

"They  are  taking  him  off  to  be  guillotined  ;  the  knife  was 
found  upon  him  !  Oh  !  the  wretch  !  That  is  your  Parisian  ! 
Why,  he  has  crime  written  on  his  face  !  " 

Though  Joseph's  blood  seethed  in  his  head  he  walked  from 
the  Place  Saint-Jean  to  the  Palais  de  Justice  with  admirable 
coolness  and  dignity.  He  was,  nevertheless,  glad  enough 
when  he  found  himself  in  Monsieur  Lousteau-Prangin's  office. 

"  I  need  hardly  tell  you,  gentlemen,  I  suppose,  that  I  am 
innocent,"  he  said,  addressing  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  Mon- 
sieur Lousteau-Prangin,  and  the  clerk.  "  I  can  only  beg 
you  to  help  me  to  prove  my  innocence.  I  know  nothing 
about  the  matter " 

When  the  judge  had  explained  to  Joseph  all  the  evidence 
against  him,  ending  with  Max's  deposition,  Joseph  was 
astounded. 

"Why,"  said  he,  "  I  did  not  leave  the  house  till  past  five ; 


228  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

I  walked  down  the  Grand'  Rue,  and  at  half-past  five  I  was 
gazing  at  the  front  of  your  parish  church  of  Saint-Cyr,  I 
stopped  to  speak  for  a  moment  to  the  bell-ringer,  who  was 
about  to  toll  the  Angelas,  asking  him  some  questions  about 
the  building,  which  had  struck  me  as  quaint  and  unfinished. 
Then  I  crossed  the  vegetable  market,  where  the  women  were 
already  collecting.  From  there  I  went  by  the  Place  Misere 
and  the  Pont-aux-Anes  to  the  mill  of  Landrole,  where  I 
quietly  watched  the  ducks  for  five  or  six  minutes ;  the  mil- 
ler's men  must  have  noticed  me.  I  saw  some  women  coming 
to  the  washing-place  ;  they  must  be  there  still ;  they  began 
to  laugh  at  me,  remarking  that  I  was  no  beauty ;  I  replied 
that  an  ugly  case  might  contain  jewels.     I  went  along  the 

avenue  as  far  as  Tivoli,  where  I  talked  to  the  gardener ■ 

Verify  all  these  statements,  and  do  not  arrest  me  I  beg,  for  I 
give  you  my  word  of  honor  to  remain  in  your  office  till  you 
are  convinced  of  my  innocence." 

This  rational  statement,  made  without  any  hesitation  and 
with  the  ease  of  a  man  sure  of  his  case,  made  some  impression 
on  the  lawyers. 

"Well,  we  must  summon  and  find  all  these  people,"  said 
Monsieur  Mouilleron,  "  but  that  is  not  to  be  done  in  a  day. 
Make  up  your  mind,  in  your  own  interest,  to  remain  in  the 
lock-up  of  the  Palais  de  Justice." 

"Then  let  me  write  to  reassure  my  mother,  poor  woman. 
Oh,  you  may  read  the  letter  !  "  said  Joseph,  seeing  the 
lawyers  look  meaningly  at  one  another. 

The  request  was  too  reasonable  to  be  refused,  and  Joseph 
wrote  these  few  lines  : 

"  Do  not  be  uneasy,  my  dear  mother ;  the  mistake  of  which 
I  am  the  victim  will  be  easily  cleared  up,  and  I  have  given 
the  clue.  To-morrow,  or  perhaps  this  evening,  I  shall  be 
free.  I  embrace  you  ;  and  say  to  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Hochon  how  grieved  I  am  by  this  \vorry,  which  is  indeed  no 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  229 

fault  of  mine,  for  it  is  the  result  of  some  mistake  which  I  do 
not  yet  understand." 

When  this  letter  arrived,  Madame  Bridau  was  half-dead  of 
nervous  terrors,  and  the  remedies  Monsieur  Goddet  was  per- 
suading her  to  sip  had  no  effect  whatever.  But  the  reading 
of  this  letter  was  like  a  balm  ;  after  a  few  hysterical  sobs 
Agathe  sank  into  the  quiescence  that  succeeds  such  a  crisis. 

When  Monsieur  Goddet  came  again  to  see  his  patient,  he 
found  her  regretting  having  left  Paris. 

"God  is  punishing  me,"  said  she,  with  tears  in  her  eyes. 
"  Oh,  my  dear  godmother,  ought  I  not  to  have  trusted  in 
Him,  and  have  looked  to  His  mercy  for  my  brother's  fortune?" 

"  Madame,"  said  Hochon  in  her  ear,  "  if  your  son  is  inno- 
cent, Max  is  an  utter  villain,  and  we  shall  not  overmatch  him 
in  the  business;  so  go  back  to  Paris." 

"  And  how  is  Monsieur  Gilet  getting  on  ?  "  asked  Madame 
Hochon  of  the  doctor. 

"The  wound  is  serious,  but  not  mortal.  A  month  of  care, 
and  he  will  be  all  right  again.  I  left  him  writing  to  Monsieur 
Mouilleron  to  request  him  to  release  your  son,"  said  he  to 
Madame  Bridau.  "Oh  !  Max  is  a  good  fellow.  I  told  him 
what  a  state  you  were  in  ;  and  then  he  remembered  a  detail 
of  the  murderer's  dress,  which  proved  to  him  that  he  could 
not  be  your  son  ;  the  assassin  had  on  list  shoes,  and  it  is  per- 
fectly certain  that  your  son  went  out  walking  in  boots." 

"  Ah  !  God  forgive  him  the  ill  he  has  done  me  !  " 

At  nightfall  a  man  had  left  a  note  for  Gilet,  written  in  a 
feigned  hand,  and  in  these  words: 

"  Captain  Gilet  must  not  leave  an  innocent  man  in  the 
hands  of  the  law.  The  person  who  dealt  the  blow  promises 
not  to  repeat  it  if  Monsieur  Gilet  delivers  Monsieur  Joseph 
Bridau  without  denouncing  the  real  culprit." 

On  reading  this  letter,  which  he  burnt,  Max  wrote  to  Mon- 
sieur Mouilleron  a  note  mentioning  the  remark  he  had  made 


230  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

to  Monsieur  Goddet,  begging  him  to  release  Joseph,  and  to 
come  and  see  him  that  he  might  explain  matters. 

By  the  time  this  note  reached  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  Lous- 
teau-Prangin  had  already  proved  the  truth  of  Joseph's  account 
of  himself,  by  the  evidence  of  the  bell-ringer,  of  a  market- 
woman,  of  the  washerwomen,  the  men  of  the  mill,  and  the 
gardener  from  Frapesle.  Max's  letter  finally  demonstrated 
the  innocence  of  the  accused,  whom  Monsieur  Mouilleron 
himself  escorted  back  to  Monsieur  Hochon's.  Joseph  was 
received  by  his  mother  with  such  eager  tenderness  that,  like 
the  husband  in  La  Fontaine's  fable,  this  poor  misprized  son 
was  thankful  to  chance  for  an  annoyance  which  had  secured 
him  such  a  demonstration  of  affection. 

"  Of  course,"  said  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  with  an  all- 
knowing  air,  "  I  saw  at  once,  by  the  way  you  faced  the  mob, 
that  you  were  innocent  ;  but  in  spite  of  my  convictions,  you 
see,  when  you  know  what  Issoudun  is,  the  best  way  to  protect 
you  was  to  take  you  to  prison  as  we  did.  I  must  say  you  put 
a  good  face  on  the  matter." 

"  I  was  thinking  of  something  else,"  replied  the  artist 
simply.  "  I  know  an  officer  who  told  me  that  he  was  once 
arrested  in  Dalmatia  under  somewhat  similar  circumstances, 
on  his  way  home  from  an  early  morning  walk,  by  an  excited 
mob.     The  similarity  struck  me,  and  I  was  studying  all  those 

heads  with  the   idea  of  painting  a  riot  in   1793 ^"d 

then  I  was  saying  to  myself,  '  Greedy  wretch  !  you  have  gotten 
no  more  than  you  deserve  for  coming  fortune-hunting  instead 
of  painting  in  your  studio '" 

"  If  you  will  allow  me  to  offer  you  a  piece  of  advice,"  said 
the  public  prosecutor,  "you  will  get  into  a  post-chaise  this 
evening  at  eleven  o'clock — the  postmaster  will  let  you  have 
one — and  get  back  to  Paris  by  diligence  from  Bourges." 

"That  is  my  opinion  too,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  who 
was  dying  to  be  rid  of  his  guest. 

"  And   it  is  my  most  earnest  wish  to  be  out  of  Issoudun, 


A  BACHELOR'S    ESTABLISHMENT.  SfJl 

though  I  leave  my  only  friend  here,"  replied  Agathe,  taking 
Madame  Hochon's  hand  and  kissing  it.  "  When  shall  I  see 
you  again  ?  " 

"  Ah  !  my  child,  we  shall  never  meet  again  till  we  meet 
above  !  We  have  suffered  so  much  here,"  she  added,  in  an 
undertone,  "  that  God  will  have  pity  on  us." 

A  moment  after,  when  Monsieur  Mouilleron  had  been  over 
to  see  Max,  Gritte  greatly  astonished  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Hochon,  Agathe,  Joseph,  and  Adolphine  by  announcing  a 
call  from  Monsieur  Rouget.  Jean-Jacques  had  come  to  take 
leave  of  his  sister,  and  to  offer  her  the  carriage  to  take  her  to 
Bourges. 

"Ah,  your  old  pictures  have  done  us  an  ill  turn,"  said 
Agathe. 

"Keep  them,  sister,"  said  the  old  man,  who  did  not  yet 
believe  in  the  value  of  the  paintings. 

"Neighbor  Rouget,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  "our  rela- 
tions are  our  best  friends  and  protectors,  especially  when 
they  are  such  as  your  sister  Agathe  and  your  nephew  Jo- 
seph." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  the  old  fellow,  in  bewilderment. 

"  You  must  be  thinking  of  making  a  Christian  end,"  said 
Madame  Hochon. 

"Oh,  Jean-Jacques,  what  a  day  this  has  been!"  said 
Agathe. 

"  Will  you  accept  my  carriage  ?  "  asked  Rouget. 

"  No,  brother,"  replied  Madame  Bridau.  "Thank  you, 
all  the  same.     I  wish  you  good  health  !  " 

Rouget  allowed  his  sister  and  nephew  to  embrace  him,  then 
he  went  away  after  a  cool  leave-taking. 

Baruch,  at  a  word  from  his  grandfather,  had  hurried  off  to 
the  posting-house.  At  eleven  that  evening  the  two  Pa- 
risians, packed  into  a  wicker  chaise  with  one  horse  ridden 
by  a  postillion,  left  Issoudun.  Adolphine  and  Madame  had 
tears  in  their  eyes ;  they  alone  regretted  Agathe  and  Joseph. 


232  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHME.VT. 

"They  are  gone!"  cried  Francois  Hochon,  going  into 
Max's  room  with  La  Rabouilleuse. 

"Well,  there,  the  trick  is  done  !  "  said  Max,  weakened  by 
fever. 

"But  what  did  you  say  to  old  Mouilleron  ?  "  asked  Fran- 
cois. 

"I  told  him  that  I  had  almost  given  my  assassin  just  cause 
to  wait  for  me  at  a  street  corner  ;  that  the  man  was  quite 
capable,  if  the  law  were  at  his  heels,  of  killing  me  like  a  dog 
before  he  could  be  caught.  In  consequence,  I  begged  Mouil- 
leron and  Prangin  to  pretend  to  be  hunting  him  down,  but 
in  fact  to  leave  the  man  alone,  unless  they  wanted  to  see  me 
a  dead  man." 

"I  hope  now.  Max,"  said  Flore,  "that  you  will  remain 
quiet  at  night  for  some  little  time." 

"  Well,  we  are  quit  of  the  Parisians  at  any  rate,"  cried 
Max.  "The  man  who  stabbed  me  did  not  imagine  he  was 
doing  us  such  a  good  service." 

Next  day,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  very  quiet  and  re- 
served people  who  shared  the  views  of  Monsieur  and  Madame 
Hochon,  all  the  town  rejoiced  over  the  departure  of  the 
Bridaus,  though  it  was  due  to  a  deplorable  mistake,  as  if  the 
event  were  a  triumph  of  the  provinces  over  Paris.  Some  of 
Max's  friends  expressed  themselves  in  hard  terms. 

"  Well,  indeed,  did  those  Parisians  imagine  that  we  are  all 
idiots,  and  that  they  had  only  to  hold  out  a  hat  for  fortunes 
to  pour  into  it." 

"  They  came  in  search  of  wool,  and  they  have  gone  away 
shorn,  for  the  nephew  is  not  to  his  uncle's  taste." 

"And  they  also  had  the  advice  of  a  Paris  lawyer,  if  you 
please ' ' 

"  Oh,  ho  !     They  had  laid  a  plan  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,  a  plan  to  get  round  Pere  Rouget ;  but  the  Pa- 
risians saw  that  they  were  not  equal  to  it.  and  their  lawyer 
won't  laugh  at  the  natives  of  Berry " 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  233 

"  But  it  is  abominable,  you  know  !  " 

"  That  is  your  Parisian  !  " 

"  La  Rabouilleuse  saw  that  she  was  attacked  and  she  de- 
fended herself " 

"  And  quite  right,  too  !  " 

To  every  one  in  the  town  Agathe  and  Joseph  were  "  Pa- 
risians " — strangers — foreigners.  They  preferred  Max  and 
Flore. 

With  what  satisfaction  Agathe  and  Joseph  found  themselves 
at  home  in  their  little  lodging  in  the  Rue  Mazarine  may  be 
imagined.  In  the  course  of  tlie  journey  the  artist  had  recov- 
ered his  spirits,  crushed  for  a  time  by  the  scene  of  his  arrest 
and  twenty  hours  in  prison  ;  but  he  could  not  rally  his 
mother.  Agathe  could  the  less  get  over  it,  because  the 
trial  for  military  conspiracy  before  the  supreme  court  was 
coming  on. 

Philippe's  conduct,  in  spite  of  the  skill  of  an  advocate  rec- 
ommended by  Desroches,  gave  rise  to  suspicions  unfavorable 
to  his  reputation.  So,  as  soon  as  Joseph  had  reported  to 
Desroches  all  that  had  occurred  at  Issoudun,  he  started  forth- 
with, accompanied  by  Mistigris,  for  the  Comte  de  Serizy's 
chateau,  so  as  to  hear  nothing  of  this  trial,  which  lasted 
twenty  days. 

It  is  useless  here  to  enlarge  on  facts  which  are  part  of  con- 
temporary history.  Whether  it  was  that  he  played  a  part  dic- 
tated to  him,  or  that  he  turned  King's  evidence,  Philippe's 
sentence  was  to  police  surveillance  for  five  years ;  and  he  was 
required  to  set  out,  the  very  day  he  was  released,  for  Autun, 
the  town  assigned  to  him  as  his  place  of  residence  during 
those  five  years.  This  sentence  was  a  form  of  detention 
similar  to  that  of  prisoners  on  parole,  who  are  confined  within 
the  walls  of  a  town. 

On  hearing  that  the  Comte  de  Serizy,  one  of  the  peers 
appointed  by  the  Upper  Chamber  to  sit  on  the  commission. 


234  A  BACHELOR'S  F.STABTJSHMENT. 

w^^  ^Miiploying  Joseph  to  decorate  his  house  at  Presles,  Des- 
roches  craved  an  audience  of  this  minister  and  found  him 
very  well  inclined  to  help  Joseph,  whose  acquaintance  he  hap- 
pened to  have  made.  Desroches  explained  the  pecuniary  dif- 
ficulties of  the  two  brothers,  mentioning  the  good  service 
done  by  their  father,  and  the  way  in  which  he  had  been  for- 
gotten under  the  Restoration. 

"Such  injustice  as  this,  monseigneur,"  said  the  attorney, 
"is  a  permanent  source  of  irritation  and  discontent.  You 
knew  the  father  ;  then  put  it  in  the  power  of  his  sons  to 
acquire  a  fortune." 

He  then  briefly  set  forth  the  state  of  the  family  affairs  at 
Issoudun,  craving  that  the  all-powerful  vice-president  of  the 
council  would  take  some  steps  to  persuade  the  chief  commis- 
sioner of  police  to  transfer  Philippe  from  Autun  to  Issoudun 
as  a  place  of  exile.  Finally,  he  mentioned  Philippe's  abject 
poverty,  and  begged  a  pension  of  sixty  francs  a  month, 
which  the  war  office  might,  in  common  decency,  grant  to  a 
retired  lieutenant-colonel. 

"  I  will  get  done  all  you  ask,"  said  the  Count,  "  for  it  all 
seems  to  me  quite  just." 

Three  days  after,  Desroches,  armed  with  the  necessary  war- 
rants, went  to  fetch  Philippe  from  the  prison  cell  of  the 
supreme  court,  and  took  him  to  his  own  house  in  the  Rue  de 
Bethizy.  There  the  young  attorney  gave  the  dreadful  soldier 
one  of  those  unanswerable  sermons  in  which  a  lawyer  places 
things  in  their  true  light,  using  the  crudest  language  to  epito- 
mize the  facts  of  his  clients'  conduct,  to  analyze  their  ideas, 
and  reduce  them  to  the  simplest  expression,  when  he  takes 
enough  interest  in  a  man  to  preach  to  him.  After  crushing 
the  Emperor's  staff-officer  by  accusing  him  of  reckless  dissipa- 
tion, and  of  causing  his  mother's  misfortunes  and  the  death 
of  old  Madame  Descoings,  he  told  him  how  matters  stood  at 
Issoudun,  explaining  them  from  his  own  point  of  view,  and 
thorouglily   unveiling    the    schemes   and    the    character   of 


A  BACHF.I.OR'S   EF.TABT.TSnMF.>JT.         •         235 

Maxence  Gilet  and  La  Rabouilleuse.  The  political  outlaw, 
who  was  gifted  with  keen  perception  in  such  matters,  listened 
far  more  intently  to  this  part  of  Desroches'  lecture  than  to 
the  first. 

"  This  being  the  state  of  affairs,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  you 
may  repair  so  much  as  is  reparable  of  the  mischief  you  have 
done  to  your  excellent  family — since  you  cannot  restore  to 
life  the  poor  woman  whose  death  lies  at  your  door  ;  but  you 
alone  can " 

"  But  how  can  I  do  it?  "  asked  Philippe. 

"  I  have  interceded  for  you  to  be  quartered  at  Issoudun  in- 
stead of  at  Autun." 

Philippe's  face,  grown  very  thin,  and  almost  sinister,  fur- 
rowed as  it  was  by  suffering  and  privation,  was  suddenly 
lighted  up  by  a  flash  of  satisfaction. 

"  You  alone,  I  was  saying,  can  rescue  your  uncle  Rouget's 
fortune,  of  which,  by  this  time,  half,  perhaps,  has  disappeared 
in  the  maw  of  that  wolf  called  Gilet,"  Desroches  went  on. 
"You  know  all  the  facts;  now  you  must  act  upon  them.  I 
suggest  no  scheme  ;  I  have  no  ideas  on  the  subject.  Besides, 
every  plan  might  need  modifying  on  tlie  scene  of  action. 
You  have  a  very  strong  adversary ;  the  rascal  is  very  astute, 
and  the  way  in  which  he  tried  to  get  back  the  pictures  given  to 
Joseph  by  your  uncle,  and  succeeded  in  casting  the  odium  of 
a  crime  on  your  poor  brother,  reveals  an  unscrupulous  oppo- 
nent. So  be  prudent  ;  try  to  behave  yourself  in  your  own 
interest,  if  you  cannot  otherwise  control  yourself.  Without 
saying  a  word  to  Joseph,  whose  pride  as  an  artist  would  rise 
in  arms,  I  sent  the  pictures  back  to  Monsieur  Hochon,  writing 
to  him  to  deliver  them  only  to  you.  Maxence  Gilet  is 
brave " 

"So  much  the  better,"  said  Philippe;  "I  trust  to  the 
rascal's  courage  to  enable  me  to  succeed,  for  a  coward  would 
go  away  from  Issoudun." 

"Very  good.     Now,  think  of  your  mother,  whose  love  for 


236  '        A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

you  is  worthy  of  worship  ;  and  of  your  brother,  whom  you 
have  used  as  your  milch-cow " 

'  '■  What !  he  mentioned  those  trifles  to  you  ? ' '  cried  Philippe. 

"Come,  come;  I  am  a  friend  of  the  family,  and  I  know 
more  about  you  than  they  do." 

"What  do  you  know?"  asked  Philippe. 

"You  turned  traitor  to  your  fellow-conspirators " 

"I  !  "  cried  Philippe  ;  "  I !  a  staff-officer  of  the  Emperor's  ! 
Get  along  !  We  took  in  the  Chamber  of  Peers,  the  lawyers, 
the  government,  and  the  whole  blessed  boiling  !  The  King's 
men  saw  nothing  but  the  blaze " 

"So  much  the  better  if  it  is  true,"  replied  the  lawyer. 
"  But,  you  see,  the  Bourbons  cannot  be  overthrown ;  they 
have  Europe  on  their  side ;  and  you  should  try  to  make  your 
peace  with  the  war  office.  Oh  !  you  will  when  you  are  a  rich 
man.  To  grow  rich,  you  and  your  brother  must  get  hold  of 
your  uncle.  If  you  want  to  bring  a  matter  requiring  so  much 
skill,  judgment,  and  patience  to  a  good  end,  you  have  enough 
to  keep  your  hands  full  all  your  five  years " 

"'  No,  no,"  interrupted  Philippe,  "  the  thing  must  be  done 
very  quickly.  That  Gilet  may  get  possession  of  my  uncle's 
money  and  invest  it  in  that  woman's  name,  then  all  would  be 
lost." 

"Well,  Monsieur  Hochon  is  a  shrewd,  clear-sighted  man. 
Take  his  advice.  You  have  your  pass  for  the  journey,  your 
place  is  taken  by  the  Orleans  diligence  for  half-past  seven, 
your  trunk  is  packed.     Come  to  dinner." 

"  I  have  not  a  thing  but  what  I  stand  up  in,"  said  Philippe, 
opening  his  wretched  blue  great-coat.  "But  I  want  three 
things,  which  I  would  ask  you  to  beg  my  friend  Giroudeau, 
Finol's  uncle,  to  send  after  me — my  cavalry  sword,  my  rapier, 
and  my  pistols." 

"You  want  a  good  deal  besides,"  said  the  lawyer  with  a 
shudder,  as  he  looked  at  his  client.  "You  shall  liave  three 
months'  pay  advanced  to  get  you  decent  clothing." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  237 

"  Halloo  !  are  you  here,  Godeschal?"  cried  Philippe,  rec- 
ognizing Mariette's  brother  in  Desroches*  head  clerk. 

"Yes;  I  have  been  with  Monsieur  Desroches  these  two 
months." 

"  And  he  will  stay  here,  I  hope,"  said  Desroches,  "  till  he 
buys  a  practice." 

"  And  Mariette?"  asked  Philippe,  touched  by  the  thought 
of  her. 

"She  is  waiting  for  the  new  house  to  be  opened." 

"  It  would  not  cost  her.  much  to  see  me  once  more,"  said 
Philippe.      "  However,  as  she  pleases  !  " 

After  the  scanty  dinner,  paid  for  by  Desroches,  who  was 
giving  his  head  clerk  his  board,  the  two  young  lawyers  saw 
the  political  outlaw  into  the  coach,  and  wished  him  good-luck. 

On  the  2d  of  November,  All-Souls'  Day,  Philippe  Bridau 
presented  himself  before  the  head  of  the  police  at  Issoudun 
to  have  his  pass  countersigned  on  the  day  of  his  arrival ;  then, 
by  that  functionary's  instructions,  he  found  a  lodging  in  the 
Rue  de  I'Avenier. 

The  news  immediately  spread  through  Issoudun  that  one  of 
the  officers  involved  in  the  late  conspiracy  was  quartered  in 
the  town,  and  the  sensation  was  all  the  greater  because  it  was 
understood  that  this  officer  was  the  brother  of  the  painter 
who  had  been  so  unjustly  arrested.  Maxence  Gilet,  by  this 
time  quite  recovered  from  his  wound,  had  carried  through  the 
difficult  business  of  calling  in  the  moneys  placed  on  mort- 
gage by  Pere  Rouget  and  having  them  invested  in  the  funds. 
The  loan  of  a  hundred  and  forty  thousand  francs,  raised  by 
the  old  man  on  his  land,  had  produced  a  great  sensation,  for 
in  the  country  everything  is  known.  On  behalf  of  the  Bri- 
daus,  Monsieur  Hochon,  shocked  at  this  necessity,  questioned 
old  Monsieur  Heron,  Rouget's  notary,  as  to  the  object  of 
this  change  of  investments. 

"  If  Pere  Rouget  changes  his  mind,  his  heirs  will  owe  me  a 


238  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

votive  offering,"  cried  Monsieur  Heron,  "But  for  me,  the 
old  man  would  have  invested  the  capital  of  fifty  thousand 
francs  a  year  in  the  name  of  Maxence  Gilet.  But  I  told 
Mademoiselle  Brazier  that  she  had  better  be  satisfied  with  the 
will,  or  risk  an  action  for  undue  influence,  seeing  the  abun- 
dant proof  of  their  manoeuvring  afforded  by  the  transfers 
made  in  every  direction.  To  gain  time  I  advised  Maxence 
and  his  mistress  to  let  the  people  forget  this  sudden  change  in 
the  old  boy's  habits." 

"Ah!  constitute  yourself  the  ally  and  protector  of  the 
Bridaus,  for  they  are  penniless,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  who 
could  not  forgive  Max  for  the  terrors  he  had  endured  when 
fearing  that  his  house  would  be  pillaged. 

Maxence  Gilet  and  Flore  Brazier,  untouched  by  all  misgiv- 
ing, made  light  of  the  advent  of  old  Rouget's  elder  nephew. 
The  moment  that  Philippe  should  cause  them  any  anxiety, 
they  knew  they  could  transfer  the  securities  to  either  of  them- 
selves by  making  Rouget  sign  a  power  of  attorney.  If  he 
should  alter  his  will,  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year  was  a  very 
handsome  plum  of  consolation,  especially  after  burthening 
the  real  estate  with  a  mortgage  of  a  hundred  and  forty  thou- 
sand francs. 

The  morning  after  his  arrival  Philippe  called  on  his  uncle 
at  about  ten  o'clock ;  he  was  bent  on  exhibiting  himself  in 
his  dreadful  old  clothes.  And,  indeed,  when  the  discharged 
patient  from  the  hospital,  the  prisoner  from  the  Luxembourg, 
entered  the  sitting-room,  Flore  Brazier  felt  her  heart  chill  at 
his  repulsive  appearance.  Gilet,  too,  felt  that  shock  to  the 
mind  and  feelings  by  which  nature  warns  us  of  some  latent 
hostility  or  looming  danger.  While  Philippe  had  acquired 
an  indescribably  sinister  expression  of  countenance  from  his 
late  misfortunes,  his  dress  certainly  added  to  the  effect.  The 
wretched  blue  overcoat  was  buttoned  in  military  style  up  to 
his  chin,  for  melancholy  reasons  indeed,  but  it  showed  too 
plainly  what  it  was  meant  to  hide.     The  edge  of  his  trousers, 


J  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  239 

fringed  like  a  pensioner's  coat,  revealed  abject  squalor.  His 
boots  left  damp  blots  of  muddy  water  oozing  from  the  gaping 
seams.  The  gray  hat  the  colonel  held  showed  a  greasy  lining. 
His  walking-stick,  a  cane  that  had  lost  its  varnish,  had  stood, 
no  doubt,  in  all  the  corners  of  the  cafes  of  Paris,  and  its 
battered  ferrule  must  have  dipped  in  many  a  mud-heap.  From 
a  stiff  velvet  collar  that  showed  the  paper  lining  rose  a  head 
exactly  like  Frederick  Lemaitre  when  made  up  for  Jf.he  last  act 
of  "  La  Vie  d'un  Joueur  ;  "  the  breakdown  of  a  still  powerful 
man  was  visible  in  a  coppery  complexion  that  looked  green  in 
patches.  Such  complexions  are  to  be  seen  in  the  faces  of 
debauchees  who  have  spent  many  niglits  at  play;  their  eyes 
are  surrounded  by  a  dark,  sooty  ring,  the  eyelids  vinous  rather 
than  red,  the  brow  ominous  from  all  the  ruin  it  betrays. 
Philippe's  cheeks  were  furrowed  and  hollow,  for  he  had 
scarcely  recovered  from  his  hospital  treatment.  His  head 
was  bald,  a  few  locks  left  at  the  back  ended  by  his  ears.  The 
pure  blue  of  his  glittering  eyes  had  assumed  a  cold,  steely  hue. 

"  Good-morning,  uncle,"  said  he  in  a  husky  voice ;  "I  am 
your  nephew,  Philippe  Bridau.  This  is  how  the  Bourbons 
treat  a  lieutenant-colonel,  a  veteran  of  the  old  army,  a  man 
who  carried  the  Emperor's  orders  at  the  battle  of  Montereau. 
I  should  be  ashamed  if  my  great-coat  were  to  fall  open,  on 
mademoiselle's  account.  After  all,  it  is  the  rule  of  the  game  ! 
We  chose  to  begin  it  again,  and  we  were  beaten.  I  am  re- 
siding in  your  town  by  orders  of  the  police,  on  full  pay  and  an 
allowance  of  sixty  francs  a  month.  So  the  good  people  of 
Issoudun  need  not  fear  that  I  shall  raise  the  price  of  victuals, 
I  see  you  are  in  good  and  fair  company." 

"  Oh  !  so  you  are  my  nephew "  said  Jean-Jacques. 

"  But  pray  ask  the  colonel  to  stay  to  breakfast,"  said  Flore. 

"No,  madame,  thank  you,"  replied  Philippe;  "I  have 
breakfasted.  Besides,  I  would  sooner  cut  off  my  hand  than 
ask  my  uncle  for  a  bit  of  bread  or  a  single  centime  after  what 
happened  in  this  town  to  my  brother  and  my  mother.     At 


240  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

the  same  time,  I  did  not  think  it  seemly  that  I  should  live 
in  Issoudun  without  paying  my  respects  to  him  now  and  then. 
But,  for  the  rest,  you  can  do  as  you  please,"  said  he,  holding 
out  his  hand,  in  which  Rouget  placed  his  for  Philippe  to 
shake,  "just  as  you  please  ;  I  shall  take  no  exception  so  long 
as  the  honor  of  the  Bridaus  is  untouched." 

Gilet  could  watch  the  lieutenant-colonel  at  his  leisure,  for 
Philippe  avoided  looking  in  his  direction  in  a  very  pointed 
way.  Though  the  blood  boiled  in  his  veins,  it  was  very 
important  to  Max  that  he  should  behave  with  that  prudence 
of  great  diplomats,  which  so  often  resembles  cowardice,  and 
not  flare  out  like  a  young  man  ;   he  sat  calm  and  cold. 

"It  would  not  be  seemly,"  said  Flore,  "that  you  should 
live  on  sixty  francs  a  month  under  the  very  nose  of  your 
uncle  with  forty  thousand  francs  a  year,  and  who  has  behaved 
so  handsome  to  Monsieur  Gilet,  the  captain  here,  his  natural 

half-brother " 

"To  be  sure,  Philippe,"  said  the  old  fellow,  "we  must  see 
about  it." 

At  the  introduction  thus  effected  by  Flore,  Philippe  bowed 
almost  timidly  to  Gilet,  who  bowed  too. 

"  Uncle,  I  have  some  pictures  here  to  return  to  you.  They 
are  at  Monsieur  Hochon's.  You  will,  I  hope,  do  me  the 
pleasure  of  coming  to  identify  them  some  day  or  other." 

Having  spoken  these  words  in  a  dry  tone,  Lieutenant-Col- 
onel Philippe  Bridau  went  away. 

His  visit  made  a  deeper  impression  on  Flore's  mind,  and 
on  Gilet's  too,  than  mere  dismay  at  the  first  sight  of  this 
dreadful  old  campaigner.  As  soon  as  Philippe  had  slammed 
the  door  with  the  violence  of  a  supplanted  heir,  Flore  and 
Gilet  hid  behind  the  curtains  to  watch  him  as  he  crossed  over 
from  his  uncle's  house  to  the  Hochons. 

"What  a  blackguard!"  said  Flore,  with  a  questioning 
glance  at  Gilet. 

"Yes,  unfortunately  there  were  some  men  like  that  in  the 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  211 

Emperor's  armies;   I  settled  seven  of  them  on  the  hulks," 
said  Gilet. 

"  I  hope  that  you  will  pick  no  quarrel  with  this  one,"  said 
Mademoiselle  Brazier. 

"That  one  !  "  retorted  Max.  "  He  is  a  mang\'  dog — but 
he  would  like  a  bone,"  he  added,  addressing  old  Rouget. 
"  If  his  uncle  will  trust  my  opinion,  he  will  get  rid  of  him 
with  a  present;  he  will  not  leave  you  in  peace,  Papa  Rouget." 

"  He  smelt  of  horrible  tobacco,"  said  the  old  man. 

"He  smelt  your  money,  too,"  said  Flore  in  a  peremptory 
tone.  "My  opinion  is  that  you  should  decline  to  receive 
him." 

"  I  am  sure  I  am  quite  willing,"  said  the  old  man. 

"Monsieur,"  said  Gritte,  going  into  the  room  where  the 
Hochon  family  were  sitting  after  breakfast,  "  Here  is  that 
Monsieur  Bridau  you  spoke  about." 

Philippe  entered  with  much  politeness,  in  the  midst  of  per- 
fect silence  produced  by  general  curiosity.  Madame  Hochon 
shuddered  from  head  to  foot  on  beholding  the  author  of  all 
Agathe's  woes  and  the  cause  of  good  old  Madame  Descoings' 
death.  Adolphine,  too,  was  unpleasantly  startled ;  Baruch 
and  Francois  looked  at  each  other  with  surprise.  Old  Hochon 
reserved  his  presence  of  mind,  and  offered  Madame  Bridau's 
son  a  seat. 

"I  have  come,"  said  Philippe,  "to  recommend  myself  to 
your  good  graces,  for  I  have  to  arrange  matters  so  as  to  live 
in  this  town  for  five  years  on  sixty  francs  a  month  allowed  me 
by  France." 

"  It  can  be  done,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon. 
Philippe  talked  on  indifferent  subjects  and  conducted  him- 
self perfectly  well.  He  spoke  of  Lousteau  the  journalist,  the 
old  lady's  nephew,  as  a  perfect  eagle,  and  her  favor  was  com- 
pletely won  when  she  heard  him  declare  that  the  name  of 
Lousteau  would  be  famous.  Then  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
confess  the  errors  of  his  ways;  in  reply  to  a  friendly  reproof 
16 


242  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

administered  by  Madame  Hochon  in  an  undertone,  he  said 
that  he  had  thought  much  while  in  prison,  and  promised  her 
to  be  quite  another  man  for  the  future. 

In  response  to  a  word  from  Philippe,  Monsieur  Hochon 
went  out  with  him.  When  the  miser  and  the  soldier  were  on 
the  Boulevard  Baron,  at  a  spot  where  no  one  could  overhear 
them,  the  colonel  said — 

"  Monsieur,  if  you  will  take  my  word  for  it,  we  had  better 
never  discuss  business  or  certain  persons  excepting  when 
walking  out  in  the  country,  or  in  places  where  we  can  talk 
without  being  heard.  Maitre  Desroches  impressed  upon  me 
how  great  is  the  power  of  gossip  in  a  small  town.  I  do  not 
wish  that  you  should  be  suspected  of  helping  me  by  your 
advice,  though  Desroches  enjoined  on  me  that  I  should  ask  it, 
and  I  beg  you  to  give  it  to  me  freely.  We  have  a  powerful 
enemy  opposed  to  us ;  we  must  neglect  no  precaution  that 
may  enable  us  to  defeat  him.  To  begin  with,  excuse  me  if  I 
call  no  more.  A  little  distance  between  us  will  leave  you 
clear  of  any  suspicion  of  influencing  my  conduct.  When  I 
require  to  consult  you,  I  will  walk  past  your  house  at  half-past 
nine,  just  as  you  are  finishing  breakfast.  If  you  see  me  car- 
rying my  stick  as  we  shoulder  arms,  that  will  convey  to  you 
that  we  are  to  meet  by  chance  at  some  spot  where  we  may 
walk,  and  which  you  will  tell  me  of." 

**A11  that  seems  to  me  the  idea  of  a  prudent  man  who 
means  to  succeed,"  said  the  old  man. 

"And  I  shall  succeed,  monsieur.  To  begin  with,  can  you 
tell  me  of  any  officers  of  the  old  army  living  here  who  are 
not  allies  of  that  Maxence  Gilet,  and  with  whom  I  may  make 
acquaintance?  " 

"  There  is  a  captain  of  the  artillery  of  the  Guard,  a  Mon- 
sieur Mignonnet,  who  was  cadet  from  the  Ecole  Polytechnique, 
a  man  of  about  forty,  who  lives  quietly  ;  he  is  a  man  of  honor, 
and  denounces  Max,  whose  conduct  seems  to  him  unworthy 
of  a  soldier." 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  243 

"Good  !  "  said  Philippe. 

"There  are  not  many  ofificers  of  that  stamp,"  Monsieur 
Hochon  went  on.  "  I  can  think  of  no  one  else  but  a  cavalry 
captain." 

"That  was  my  corps,"  said  Philippe.  "Was  he  in  the 
Guards?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Monsieur  Hochon.  "In  iSio  Carpentier 
was  quartermaster-general  of  the  dragoons ;  he  left  that  regi- 
ment and  entered  the  line  as  second  lieutenant,  where  he  rose 
to  be  captain." 

"Giroudeau  perhaps  may  know  him,"   thought  Philippe. 

"  Monsieur  Carpentier  took  the  place  at  the  mayor's  which 
Maxence  threw  up,  and  he  is  a  friend  of  Major  Mignonnet." 

"  And  what  can  I  do  here  for  my  living?  " 

"  I  believe  that  an  insurance  company  is  about  to  be 
started  for  the  department  of  the  Cher ;  you  might  find 
employment  there,  but  it  would  not  be  more  than  fifty  francs 
a  month  at  the  best." 

"That  will  do  for  me." 

By  the  end  of  the  week  Philippe  had  a  new  coat,  waistcoat, 
and  trousers  of  blue  Elbeuf  cloth,  bought  on  credit  for 
monthly  payments ;  boots  too,  leather  gloves,  and  a  hat. 
Giroudeau  sent  him  some  linen  from  Paris,  his  weapons,  and 
a  letter  of  introduction  to  Carpentier,  who  had  served  under 
the  former  captain  of  dragoons.  This  letter  secured  to 
Philippe  Carpentier's  good  offices,  and  he  introduced  him  to 
Mignonnet  as  a  man  of  the  highest  merit  and  noblest  char- 
acter. Philippe  soon  won  the  admiration  of  these  two 
worthy  officers  by  confiding  to  them  some  details  of  the  con- 
spiracy for  which  he  had  been  tried  ;  it  had  been,  as  every 
one  knows,  the  last  attempt  of  the  old  army  to  rebel  against 
the  Bourbons;  for  the  case  of  the  sergeants  of  La  Rochelle 
falls  under  another  category. 

After  1822  the  soldiery,  who  had  learned  a  lesson  from  the 
fate  of  the  conspiracy  of  August  19,  1820,  and  of  Berton's 


244  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

and  Caron's  plots,  made  up  their  minds  to  await  the  turn 
of  events.  This  last  scheme,  the  younger  sister  of  that  of 
the  19th  of  August,  was  identically  the  same,  but  recom- 
posed  of  better  elements.  Like  the  first,  it  was  kept  abso- 
lutely secret  from  the  King's  government.  The  conspirators, 
once  more  found  out,  were  clever  enough  to  reduce  a  really 
far-reaching  enterprise  to  the  semblance  of  a  mere  petty 
barrack  mutiny.  The  north  of  France  was  to  be  the  scene 
of  this  conspiracy,  in  which  several  regiments  of  cavalry, 
artillery  and  infantry  were  implicated.  The  frontier  for- 
tresses were  to  be  all  seized  at  once  by  surprise.  In  the  event 
of  success,  the  treaties  of  18 15  were  to  be  nullified  by  the 
immediate  federation  of  Belgium,  which  was  to  be  torn  from 
the  Holy  Alliance  as  the  outcome  of  a  military  compact 
among  soldiers.  Two  thrones  were  at  once  to  founder  in  this 
swift  whirlwind. 

Of  this  formidable  scheme  planned  by  clever  heads,  with 
which  some  great  personages  were  mixed  up,  nothing  came 
but  a  case  for  the  supreme  court.  Philippe  Bridau  consented 
to  screen  his  betters,  who  vanished  at  the  moment  when  their 
plans  were  discovered — either  by  some  treachery  or  by  chance ; 
and  they,  in  their  seats  in  the  Chambers,  had  only  promised 
their  cooperation  to  crown  success  at  the  very  heart  of 
government. 

To  relate  the  scheme  which  the  confessions  of  the  Liberals, 
in  1830,  divulged  in  all  its  depth,  and  in  its  immense  ramifi- 
cations, unknown  to  the  initiated  of  the  baser  class,  would  be 
to  intrude  on  the  domain  of  history,  and  would  lead  to  too 
long  a  digression.  This  outline  will  suffice  to  explain  the 
twofold  part  played  by  Philippe.  The  Emperor's  staff-officer 
was  to  have  led  an  outbreak  in  Paris,  intended  merely  to  mask 
the  real  conspiracy  and  to  keep  the  government  busy  at  its 
centre,  while  the  great  movement  took  place  in  the  north. 
Afterwards  he  was  put  forward  to  break  the  connection  be- 
tween the   two  plots  by  betraying   only  some   unimportant 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  245 

secrets ;  his  destitute  appearance  and  broken  health  were 
admirably  calculated  to  throw  discredit  and  contempt  on  the 
enterprise  in  the  eyes  of  the  authorities.  This  part  was  well 
suited  to  the  precarious  position  of  this  unprincipled  gambler. 
Feeling  that  he  had  one  foot  in  each  party,  the  wily  Philippe 
played  the  good  apostle  to  the  King's  government,  and  yet 
did  not  lose  the  esteem  of  men  standing  high  in  his  own 
party  ;  but  he  promised  himself  that  at  a  future  day  he  would 
follow  up  the  line  that  might  offer  the  greater  advantages. 

These  revelations  as  to  the  vast  extent  of  the  real  con- 
spiracy made  Philippe  a  man  of  the  highest  importance  in 
the  eyes  of  Carpentier  and  Mignonnet,  for  his  devotedness 
showed  a  political  sense  worthy  of  the  best  days  of  the  Con- 
vention. Thus,  in  a  few  days,  the  cunning  Bonapartist  be- 
came the  friend  of  these  two  men,  whose  respectability  cast 
its  reflection  on  him.  By  the  recommendation  of  Monsieur 
Carpentier  and  Monsieur  Mignonnet  he  at  once  got  the 
appointment  mentioned  by  Hochon  in  the  Mutual  Insurance 
Society  of  the  Department  of  the  Cher.  His  work  was  to 
keep  the  books,  as  in  a  tax-collector's  office,  to  fill  in  printed 
circulars  with  names  and  numbers  and  send  them  off,  and  to 
issue  policies  of  insurance  ;  thus  he  was  not  employed  for 
more  than  three  hours  daily. 

Mignonnet  and  Carpentier  secured  the  admission  of  this 
visitor  to  Issoudun  to  their  club,  where  his  air  and  manners, 
quite  in  accordance  with  the  high  opinion  these  two  officers 
had  formed  of  this  leader  of  conspiracies,  gained  him  the 
respect  which  is  paid  often  to  deceptive  appearances.  Phil- 
ippe, whose  conduct  was  the  result  of  much  deliberation,  had 
meditated  in  prison  on  the  disadvantages  of  a  dissolute  life. 
He  had  not  needed  Desroches'  lecture  to  perceive  the  neces- 
sity for  conciliating  the  good  opinion  of  the  townspeople  by 
honest,  decent,  and  cleanly  conduct.  Delighted  to  cast  re- 
flections on  Max  by  living  as  respectably  as  Mignonnet,  he 
also  wished  to  lull  Max  by  deceiving  him  as  to  his  character. 


246  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

He  meant  to  be  looked  upon  as  a  nincompoop,  by  affecting 
disinterested  generosity  while  circumventing  the  enemy  and 
aiming  at  his  uncle's  fortune  ;  whereas  his  mother  and  his 
brother,  who  were  really  disinterested,  generous,  and  mag- 
nanimous, had  been  accused  of  cunning  while  acting  with  art 
less  simplicity. 

Philippe's  greed  had  been  fired  in  proportion  to  his  uncle's 
wealth,  which  Monsieur  Hochon  expatiated  on  in  detail.  In 
the  first  private  conversation  he  had  held  with  this  old  man 
they  had  fully  agreed  that,  above  all  things,  Philippe  must  nol 
rouse  Max's  suspicions  ;  for  all  would  be  lost  if  Max  an^ 
Flore  carried  off  their  victim,  even  to  Bourges. 

Once  a  week  Colonel  Bridau  dined  with  Captain  Mignonnet 
another  day  with  Carpentier,  and  every  Thursday  with  Mon 
sieur  Hochon.  He  was  soon  invited  to  other  houses,  and  br 
the  end  of  three  weeks  had  only  his  breakfast  to  pay  for.  H' 
never  mentioned  his  uncle,  nor  La  Rabouilleuse,  nor  Gilet^ 
unless  it  were  to  make  some  inquiry  with  reference  to  h\r 
mother's  or  Joseph's  stay  in  the  town.  Finally,  the  threr 
officers,  the  only  men  wearing  the  ribbon  of  the  Legion  o^ 
Honor — Philippe  having  the  superior  decoration  of  the 
rosette,  which  gave  him  a  marked  superiority  in  everybody's 
eyes,  very  noticeable  in  a  country  town — would  take  their 
daily  walk  together  at  the  same  hour  before  dinner,  keeping 
themselves  to  themselves,  to  use  a  homely  phrase. 

This  attitude,  this  reserve  and  calm  demeanor,  produced  an 
excellent  effect  in  Issoudun.  Max's  adherents  all  looked 
upon  Philippe  as  a  sabreur,  a  swashbuckler,  an  expression 
used  by  soldiers  to  attribute  the  coarsest  kind  of  courage 
to  a  superior  officer,  while  denying  him  the  capacity  for 
command. 

"  He  is  a  very  respectable  man,"  said  the  elder  Goddet  to 
Max. 

"  Pooh  !  "  replied  Major  Gilet,  "  his  behavior  before  the 
court  shows  him  to  be  either  a  dupe  or  a  spy;  he  is,  as  you 


A  BACHELOR'^  ESTABLISHMENT.  TAl 

say,  fool  enough  to  have  been  tlie  dupe  of  those  who  were 
playing  for  high  stakes." 

After  getting  his  appointment,  Philippe,  aware  of  the  gossip 
of  the  place,  was  anxious  to  conceal  certain  facts  as  far  as  pos- 
sible from  his  neighbors'  knowledge ;  he  therefore  took  rooms 
in  a  house  at  the  end  of  the  Faubourg  Saint-Paterne,  with  a 
very  large  garden  attached.  There,  in  perfect  secrecy,  he 
could  practice  sword-play  with  Carpentier,  who  had  been  in- 
structor in  a  regiment  of  foot  before  his  promotion  to  the 
Imperial  Guard.  After  having  thus  recovered  his  old  supe- 
riority, Philippe  learned  from  Carpentier  certain  secret  tricks 
which  would  enable  him  to  meet  the  most  accomplished 
opponent  without  any  fear.  He  next  took  to  pistol  practice 
with  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier,  for  amusement,  as  he  said, 
but  in  reality  to  lead  Maxence  to  believe  that,  in  the  event  of 
a  duel,  he  relied  on  that  weapon.  Whenever  Philippe  met 
Gilet  he  expected  him  to  salute,  and  replied  by  lifting  the 
front  of  his  hat  with  his  finger  in  a  cavalier  fashion,  as  a 
colonel  does  to  a  private. 

Maxence  Gilet  never  gave  any  sign  of  annoyance  or  dis- 
satisfaction ;  he  never  uttered  a  single  word  on  the  subject  at 
La  Cognette's,  where  he  still  had  little  suppers,  though  since 
Fario's  knife-thrust  the  nocturnal  pranks  were  for  a  time 
pretermitted.  Still,  at  the  end  of  a  certain  time,  Lieutenant- 
Colonel  Bridau's  contempt  for  Major  Gilet  was  a  patent  fact, 
and  discussed  by  some  of  the  Knights  of  Idlesse  who  were 
less  closely  attached  to  Maxence  than  were  Baruch,  Frangois, 
and  two  or  three  more.  It  was  a  matter  of  general  surprise 
to  see  Max  the  vehement  and  fiery  behaving  so  meekly.  No 
one  at  Issoudun,  not  even  Potel  or  Renaru,  ventured  to  men- 
tion so  delicate  a  matter  to  Gilet.  Potel,  really  disturbed  by 
such  a  public  misunderstanding  between  two  officers  of  the  Old 
Guard,  represented  Max  as  quite  capable  of  hatching  some  plot 
in  which  the  colonel  might  get  the  worst  of  it.  By  Potel's 
account  some  new  pitfall  might  be  expected,  after  what  Max 


248  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

had  done  to  be  rid  of  the  mother  and  brother — for  the  Fario 
affair  was  no  longer  a  mystery.  Monsieur  Hochon  had  not 
failed  to  expose  Gilet's  atrocious  game  to  all  the  wise  heads 
of  the  town.  Monsieur  Mouilleron,  too,  the  hero  of  a  piece 
of  town  gossip,  had  confidentially  revealed  the  name  of  Gilet's 
would-be  murderer,  if  only  to  find  out  the  causes  of  Fario's 
hatred  of  Max,  so  as  to  keep  justice  on  the  alert  in  case  of 
further  events.  Thus,  while  discussing  the  colonel's  attitude 
towards  Max,  and  endeavoring  to  guess  what  might  come  of 
this  antagonism,  the  town  regarded  them  by  anticipation  as 
adversaries. 

Philippe,  who  was  anxiously  investigating  the  details  of  his 
brother's  arrest  and  the  antecedent  history  of  Gilet  and  La 
Rabouilleuse,  ended  by  forming  a  somewhat  intimate  alliance 
with  Fario,  who  was  his  neighbor.  After  carefully  studying 
the  Spaniard,  Philippe  thought  he  might  trust  a  man  of  his 
temper.  Their  hatred  was  so  absolutely  in  unison  that  Fario 
placed  himself  at  Philippe's  service,  and  told  him  all  he  knew 
of  the  feats  of  the  Knights  of  Idlesse.  Philippe,  on  his  part, 
promised  that,  if  he  should  succeed  in  obtaining  such  influ- 
ence over  his  uncle  as  Gilet  now  exerted,  he  would  indemnify 
Fario  for  all  his  losses,  and  thus  secured  his  fidelity.  Max- 
ence  had  therefore  a  formidable  enemy  to  meet — some  one 
who  could  talk  to  him,  as  they  say  in  those  parts.  The  town 
of  Issoudun,  excited  by  rumor,  foresaw  a  struggle  between 
these  two  men  who,  be  it  observed,  held  each  other  in  utter 
contempt. 

One  morning,  towards  the  end  of  November,  Philippe  meet- 
ing Monsieur  Hochon  at  noon  in  the  Avenue  de  Frapesle, 
said  to  him — 

"  I  have  discovered  that  your  grandsons  Baruch  and  Fran- 
cois are  the  intimate  allies  of  Maxence  Gilet.  The  young 
rogues  take  part  at  night  in  all  the  pranks  played  in  the  town. 
And  so,  through  tliem,  Maxence  knew  everything  that  went 


.7  jIA  CHEL  OK  '  S  KS  TABL  ISHMF.N  T.  249 

on  in  your  house  when  my  brother  and  mother  were  staying 
with  you." 

"And  what  proof  have  you  of  anything  so  shocking?  " 

*'  I  heard  them  talking  at  night  as  they  came  out  of  a  tavern. 
Your  two  grandsons  each  owe  Maxence  a  thousand  crowns. 
The  villain  desired  the  poor  boys  to  find  out  what  our  plans 
are.  He  reminded  them  that  it  was  you  who  proposed  to 
besiege  my  uncle  through  the  priesthood,  and  said  that  no  one 
could  advise  me  but  you — for,  happily,  he  regards  me  as  a 
mere  fighting-cock." 

"  What !     My  grandchildren " 

"  Watch  them,"  said  Philippe  ;  "  you  will  see  them  coming 
home  to  the  Place  Saint-Jean  at  two  or  three  in  the  morning, 
as  sodden  as  champagne-corks,  and  walking  with  Maxence." 

"  So  that  is  why  the  rascals  are  so  abstemious  !  "  said  Mon- 
sieur Hochon. 

"  Fario  told  me  something  of  their  nocturnal  habits,"  said 
Philippe.  "  But  for  him  I  should  never  have  guessed  it. 
My  uncle  is  evidently  oppressed  by  the  most  horrible 
tyranny,  to  judge  from  the  few  words  my  Spaniard  overheard 
Max  saying  to  your  boys.  I  suspect  that  Max  and  La  Ra- 
bouilleuse  have  a  plan  for  grabbing  the  state  securities  for  fifty 
thousand  francs  a  year  and  going  off  to  be  married,  I  don't 
know  where,  after  plucking  that  wing  from  the  pigeon.  It  is 
high  time  to  find  out  what  is  going  on  in  my  uncle's  housf* ; 
but  I  do  not  know  how  to  set  about  it." 

"  I  will  think  it  over,"  said  the  old  man. 

Philippe  and  Monsieur  Hochon  then  went  opposite  ways, 
seeing  other  people  approaching. 

Never,  at  any  period  of  his  life,  had  Jean-Jacques  Rouget 
been  so  miserable  as  since  his  nephew  Pliilippe's  first  visit. 
Flore,  in  great  terror,  had  a  presentiment  of  some  danger 
hanging  over  Max.  Tired  of  her  master,  and  fearing  that  he 
would  live  to  a  great  age,  as  her  criminal  practices  had  so  little 
effect  on  him,  she  hit  on  the  very  simple  plan  of  leaving  the 


250  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

j.lace  and  going  to  Paris  to  be  married  to  JNlaxence,  after 
extracting  from  Rouget  the  bonds  bearing  fifty  thousand 
francs  a  year.  The  old  fellow,  warned  not  indeed  by  any 
care  for  his  heirs,  nor  by  personal  avarice,  but  by  his  passion 
for  Flore,  refused  to  give  her  the  securities,  pointing  out  that 
he  had  left  her  everything.  The  unhappy  man  knew  how 
devotedly  she  loved  Maxence,  and  he  foresaw  that  she  would 
desert  him  as  soon  as  she  should  be  rich  enough  to  marry. 
When,  after  lavishing  her  tenderest  coaxing,  Flore  found  her 
request  denied,  she  tried  severity  ;  she  never  spoke  to  her 
master,  she  sent  Vedie  to  wait  upon  him,  and  the  woman  one 
morning  found  the  old  man  with  his  eyes  red  from  having 
wept  all  night.  For  a  week  Pere  Rouget  had  his  breakfast 
alone,  and  heaven  knows  how  ! 

So,  the  day  after  his  conversation  with  Monsieur  Hochon, 
when  Philippe  paid  his  uncle  a  second  visit,  he  found  him 
much  altered.  Flore  remained  in  the  room  near  the  old  man, 
on  whom  she  shed  tender  glances,  speaking  kindly  to  him, 
and  playing  the  farce  so  well  that  Philippe  understood  the 
dangers  of  the  situation  merely  from  the  solicitude  paraded 
for  his  benefit.  Gilet,  whose  policy  it  was  to  avoid  any  col- 
lision with  Philippe,  did  not  appear.  After  studying  Pere 
Rouget  and  Flore  with  a  keen  eye,  the  colonel  decided  on  a 
bold  stroke. 

"  Good-by,  my  dear  uncle,"  he  said,  rising,  so  as  to  seem 
about  to  leave. 

"  Oh,  do  not  go  yet,"  cried  the  old  man,  who  was  basking 
in  Flore's  pretended  affection.      "  Dine  with  us,  Philippe." 

"  I  will,  if  you  will  first  take  an  hour's  walk  with  me." 

"Monsieur  is  very  ailing,"  said  Mademoiselle  Brazier. 
"  He  would  not  go  out  driving  just  now,"  she  added,  turning 
to  the  old  man,  and  looking  at  him  with  the  fixed  gaze  that 
sometimes  quells  a  madman. 

Philippe  took  Flore  by  the  arm,  made  her  look  at  him,  and 
gazed  at  her  just  as  fixedly  as  she  had  stared  at  her  victim. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  251 

"Tell  me,  mademoiselle,"  said  he,  "am  I  to  infer  that  my 
uncle  is  not  free  to  come  for  a  walk  alone  with  me." 

"  Of  course  he  is,  monsieur,"  said  Flore,  who  could  hardly 
make  any  other  reply. 

"Well,  then,  come,  uncle.  Now,  mademoiselle,  give  him 
his  hat  and  stick." 

"  But,  as  a  rule,  he  never  goes  out  without  me.  Do  you, 
monsieur?" 

"  Yes,  Philippe,  yes;  I  always  want  her " 

"  We  had  better  go  in  the  carriage,"  said  Flore. 

"Yes,  let  us  go  in  the  carriage,"  cried  the  old  man  in  his 
anxiety  to  reconcile  his  two  tyrants. 

"  Uncle,  you  will  come  for  a  walk,  and  with  me,  or  I  come 
here  no  more.  For  the  town  will  be  in  the  right :  you  are 
under  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier's  thumb.  My  uncle  loves 
you,  well  and  good,"  he  went  on,  fixing  a  leaden  eye  on 
Flore.  "  You  do  not  love  him — that  too  is  quite  in  order. 
But  that  you  should  make  the  old  man  miserable!  There  we 
draw  the  line.  Those  who  want  to  inherit  a  fortune  must 
earn  it.     Now,  uncle,  are  you  coming?  " 

Philippe  saw  an  agony  of  hesitancy  depicted  on  the  face 
of  the  poor,  helpless  creature,  whose  eyes  wandered  first  to 
Flore  and  then  to  his  nephew. 

"So  that  is  how  it  stands!"  said  the  colonel.  "Very 
good  !  Good-by,  uncle.  As  for  you,  mademoiselle — your 
servant !  " 

He  turned  round  quickly  as  he  reached  the  door,  and  again 
detected  a  threatening  gesture  from  Flore  to  his  uncle. 

"  Uncle,"  said  he,  "  if  you  will  come  for  a  walk  with  me, 
I  will    meet    you    at    your    door.      I  am    going    to  Monsieur 

Hochon  for  ten  minutes If  you  and  I  do  not  get  our 

walk,  I  will  back  myself  to  send  some  people  walking  I  could 
name." 

And  Philippe  crossed  the  avenue  to  call  on  the  Hochons. 

Any  one  can  imagine  the  scene  in  the  family  which  resulted 


252  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLTSHMENT. 

from  Philippe's  revelation  to  Monsieur  Hochon.  At  nine 
o'clock  that  morning  old  Monsieur  Heron  had  made  his 
appearance  with  a  bundle  of  papers  and  found  a  fire  in  the 
large  room,  lighted  by  the  master's  orders,  quite  against  the 
general  rule.  Madame  Hochon,  dressed  at  this  unconscion- 
able hour,  was  sitting  in  her  armchair  by  the  fire.  The  two 
grandsons,  warned  by  Adolphine  of  a  storm  gathering  over 
their  heads  since  yesterday,  had  been  ordered  to  stay  at  home. 
Having  been  summoned  by  Gritte,  they  were  chilled  by  the 
paraphernalia  of  ceremony  displayed  by  their  grandparents, 
whose  cold  wrath  had  hung  over  them  for  the  past  twenty- 
four  hours. 

"  Do  not  rise  for  them,"  said  the  old  man  to  Monsieur 
Heron.  "  You  see  before  you  two  wretches  unworthy  of  for- 
giveness. ' ' 

"  Oh  !  grandpapa  !  "  said  Francois. 

"Silence,"  said  the  solemn  old  man.  "I  know  all  about 
your  life  at  night  and  your  intimacy  with  Monsieur  Maxence 
Gilet ;  but  you  will  not  meet  him  again  at  La  Cognette's  at 
one  in  the  morning,  for  you  are  not  to  go  out  of  this  house 
again  till  you  set  out  for  your  respective  destinations.  So  you 
ruined  Fario?  You  have  many  a  time  been  within  an  ace  of 
finding  yourselves  in  a  criminal  court?  Be  silent  !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, seeing  Baruch  open  his  mouth.  "You  both  owe 
money  to  Monsieur  Maxence,  who  for  six  years  past  has  been 
supplying  you  with  it  for  your  debaucheries.  Listen,  now,  to 
the  accounts  of  my  guardianship ;  we  will  talk  afterwards. 
You  will  see  from  these  documents  whether  you  can  play 
tricks  with  me,  play  tricks  on  the  family  and  the  laws  of 
family  honor  by  betraying  the  secrets  of  the  house,  and  re- 
peating to  Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  what  is  said  and  done  in 
it !  For  a  thousand  crowns  you  play  the  spy  !  For  ten  thou- 
sand you  would  no  doubt  commit  murder!  Indeed,  did  you 
not  almost  kill  Madame  Bridau?  for  Monsieur  Gilet  knew 
full  well  that  it  was  Fario  who  had  stabbed  him  when  he 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  253 

accused  my  guest.  Monsieur  Joseph  Bridau,  of  the  attempt. 
And  when  that  gallows-bird  committed  such  a  crime,  it  was 
because  he  liad  learned  from  you  that  Madame  Agathe  in- 
tended to  remain  here.  You,  my  grandsons,  to  play  the  spy 
for  such  a  man  !  You,  street-bullies !  Did  you  not  know 
that  your  worthy  chief  already,  in  1806,  had  caused  the  death 
of  a  poor  young  creature  ?  I  will  have  no  assassins  or  rob- 
bers in  my  house.  You  will  just  pack  up  your  things  and  go 
elsewhere  to  be  hanged  !  " 

The  two  young  men  were  as  white  and  rigid  as  plaster 
images. 

"  Begin,  Monsieur  Heron,"  said  the  miser  to  the  notary. 

The  old  lawyer  read  out  an  account  of  Hochon's  guardian- 
ship, whence  it  appeared  that  the  entire  unencumbered  for- 
tune of  the  two  Borniche  children  amounted  to  seventy  thou- 
sand francs,  the  money  settled  on  their  mother;  but  Monsieur 
Hochon  had  loaned  his  daughter  considerable  sums,  and,  as 
representing  the  lenders,  had  a  lien  on  part  of  his  grand- 
children's fortune.  The  share  remaining  to  Baruch  came  to 
twenty  thousand  francs. 

"There,  you  are  a  rich  man,"  said  his  grandfather,  ''Take 
your  money  and  walk  alone  !  I  remain  free  to  bestow  my 
wealth  and  Madame  Hochon's — for  she  agrees  with  me  on 
every  point  in  this  matter — on  whomsoever  I  please,  on  our 
dear  Adolphine.  Yes,  she  shall  marry  a  peer's  son  if  we 
choose,  for  she  will  have  all  we  possess  !  " 

"And  a  very  fine  fortune  it  is,"  added  Monsieur  Heron. 

"Monsieur  Maxence  Gilet  will  indemnify  you!"  said 
Madame  Hochon. 

"  I  see  myself  scraping  twenty  sous  pieces  together  for  such 
a  couple  of  ne'er-do-weels  !  "  exclaimed  Monsieur  Hochon. 

"Forgive  me,"  stammered  Baruch. 

'^Forgive  me  this  once,  and  never  no  more,^^  repeated  the 
old  man,  mocking  the  voice  of  a  child.  "Yes,  and  if  I  for- 
give you,  off  you  go  to  Monsieur  Maxence  to  tell  him  what 


254  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

has  befallen  you  and  put  him  on  his  guard No,  no,  my 

little  gentlemen.  I  shall  have  means  of  knowing  how  you 
conduct  yourselves.  As  you  behave,  I  shall  behave.  It  is 
not  by  the  good  conduct  of  a  day  or  of  a  month  that  I  shall 
judge  you,  but  by  that  of  many  years.  I  am  strong  on  my 
feet,  hale  and  hearty.  I  hope  to  live  long  enough  yet  to  see 
which  way  you  go.  You,  the  capitalist,"  he  added  to  Baruch, 
"  will  go  to  Paris  to  study  banking  with  Monsieur  Mongenod. 
Woe  to  you  there  if  you  do  not  walk  straight  :  they  will  keep 
an  eye  on  you.  Your  money  is  in  the  hands  of  Mongenod 
&  Sons;  here  is  a  check  on  them  for  the  whole  sum.  So 
now  release  me  by  signing  your  account,  which  is  closed  by 
a  receipt  in  full,"  said  he,  taking  the  paper  out  of  Heron's 
hands  and  giving  it  to  Baruch. 

"As  for  you,  Frangois  Hochon,  you  owe  me  money  instead 
of  having  any  to  receive,"  said  the  old  man,  addressing  his 
other  grandson.  "  Monsieur  Heron,  will  you  read  him  his 
statement  ;   it  is  clear — quite  clear." 

The  reading  took  place  in  utter  silence. 

"  I  am  sending  you  to  Poitiers,  with  six  hundred  francs  a 
year,  to  study  law,"  said  his  grandfather,  when  the  notary 
ended.  "  I  was  prepared  to  make  life  easy  for  you  ;  now 
you  must  become  an  advocate  to  make  your  living.  Ah,  ha  ! 
my  young  rascals,  for  six  years  you  have  taken  me  in  !  Well, 
it  took  me  just  an  hour  in  my  turn  to  overtake  you.  I  have 
seven-league  boots  !  " 

Just  as  old  Monsieur  Heron  was  leaving,  carrying  with  him 
the  signed  releases,  Gritte  announced  Monsieur  le  Colonel 
Philippe  Bridau.  Madame  Hochon  left  the  room,  taking  her 
grandsons  with  her  "  to  the  confessional,"  as  old  Hochon 
expressed  it,  and  to  ascertain  what  effect  this  scene  had  had 
on  them. 

Philippe  and  the  old  man  went  to  the  window  and  talked 
in  low  tones. 

"  I  have  been   considering  the   position  of  your  affairs," 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  255 

said  Monsieur  Hoclion,  looking  across  to  the  house  opposite. 
"  I  have  just  been  talking  them  over  with  Monsieur  Heron. 
The  bond  bearing  fifty  thousand  francs  interest  can  only  be 
sold  by  the  holder  himself,  or  by  his  order.  Now,  since  you 
came,  your  uncle  has  signed  no  such  order  in  any  lawyer's 
ofifice  ;  and  as  he  has  not  been  out  of  Issoudun,  he  has  signed 
none  elsewhere.  If  he  gave  any  one  a  power  of  attorney  in 
this  place,  we  should  know  of  it  at  once;  if  he  did  it  else- 
where, we  should  hear  of  it  all  tlie  same,  for  it  would  have 
to  be  stamped,  and  our  good  Monsieur  Heron  has  means  of 
information.  So  if  the  old  man  should  go  out  of  the  town, 
follow  him,  find  out  where  he  has  been,  and  we  will  take 
steps  to  discover  what  he  has  done." 

"The  power  has  not  been  given,"  said  Philippe.  "They 
are  trying  for  it,  but  I  hope  to  prevent  its  being  executed. 
No,  it  will  not  be  executed  !  "  cried  Philippe,  seeing  his  uncle 
appear  on  his  doorstep.  He  pointed  him  out  to  Monsieur 
Hochon,  and  hastily  told  him  of  the  events — so  trivial  and 
so  important — of  his  visit  to  Rouget.  "  Maxence  is  afraid 
of  me,"  he  added,  "but  he  cannot  keep  out  of  my  way. 
Mignonnet  tells  me  that  all  the  officers  of  the  old  army  keep 
high  festival  at  Issoudun  every  day  on  the  anniversary  of  the 
Emperor's  coronation.  Well,  then,  two  days  hence,  Max  and 
I  must  meet." 

"  If  he  can  get  the  power  of  attorney  by  the  morning  of 
the  ist  of  December,  he  will  be  off  to  Paris  by  the  mail 
and  leave  the  anniversary  to  take  care  of  itself." 

"True,  then  I  must  get  hold  of  my  uncle;  but  I  have  an 
eye  that  settles  idiots,"  said  Philippe,  making  Monsieur 
Hochon  quail  under  a  villainous  glare. 

"  If  they  are  allowing  him  to  walk  out  with  you,  Maxence 
has  no  doubt  hit  on  some  other  plan  for  winning  the  game," 
said  the  old  miser. 

"Oh!  Fario  is  on  the  watch,"  replied  Philippe,  "and 
not  only  he.     The  Spaniard  discovered  for  me,  in  the  neigh- 


256  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

borhood  of  Vatan,  one  of  my  old  soldiers  to  whom  I  once 
did  a  service.  No  one  suspects  that  Benjamin  Bourdet  is  at 
the  Spaniard's  orders,  and  Fario  has  placed  one  of  his  horses 
at  Benjamin's  service." 

'*If  you  were  to  kill  the  monster  who  perverted  my  grand- 
sons, you  would  be  really  doing  a  good  action." 

"By  this  time,  thanks  to  me,  all  Issoudun  knows  what 
Monsieur  Maxence  has  been  at  by  night  for  these  six  years 
past,"  replied  Philippe,  "and  tongues  are  wagging  about  him 
pretty  freely.     Morally,  he  is  a  ruined  man." 

The  moment  Philippe  had  left  his  uncle,  Flore  went  to 
Max's  room  to  relate  to  him  the  smallest  details  of  the  visit 
paid  by  this  audacious  nephew. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  said  she. 

"  Before  having  recourse  to  extreme  measures,  which  would 
be  a  duel  with  that  long  corpse  of  a  man,"  replied  Maxence, 
"we  must  play  for  double  or  quits  by  a  daring  stroke.  Let 
the  old  simpleton  go  out  with  liis  nephew." 

"  But  that  great  hound  does  not  beat  about  the  bush,"  cried 
Flore  ;   "he  will  call  a  spade  a  spade." 

"Just  attend  to  me,"  said  Maxence,  in  his  most  strident 
tones.  "  Do  you  suppose  that  I  have  not  listened  at  doors 
and  considered  our  position  ?  Send  to  old  Cognet  for  a  con- 
veyance and  a  horse,  now,  this  minute  !  All  must  be  done 
in  five  minutes.  Put  all  that  is  yours  into  the  cart,  take 
Vedie,  and  be  off  to  Vatan  ;  take  the  twenty  thousand  francs 
he  has  in  his  desk.  If  I  bring  the  old  boy  to  Vatan,  do  not 
consent  to  return  here  till  he  has  signed  the  power  of  attor- 
ney. Then  I  will  sneak  off  to  Paris  while  you  come  back  to 
Issoudun.  When  Jean-Jacques  comes  in  from  his  walk  and 
finds  that  you  are  gone,  lie  will  lose  his  head  and  want  to  run 
after  you.     Very  good — and  I  will  talk  to  him  then  !  " 

While  this  plot  was  being  laid,  Philippe,  arm-in-arm 
with  his  uncle,  had  taken  him  for  a  walk  on  the  Boulevard 
Baron. 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  257 

"There  are  two  great  schemers  at  loggerheads,"  said  old 
Hochon  to  himself,  watching  the  colonel  supporting  his  uncle. 
"  I  am  curious  to  see  the  end  of  this  game,  where  the  stake 
is  ninety  thousand  francs  a  year." 

"  My  dear  uncle,"  said  Philippe,  whose  phraseology  had 
some  flavor  of  his  Paris  associates,  "  you  are  in  love  with  that 
minx,  and  you  show  devilish  good  taste,  for  she  is  a  stunning 
armful.  Instead  of  cosseting  you,  she  makes  you  trot  round 
like  her  footman — and  that  again  is  natural  enough  ;  she  would 
like  to  see  you  six  feet  under  the  daisies  to  marry  Maxence, 
whom  she  worships " 

"  Yes,  Philippe,  I  know  all  that,  but  I  love  her  all  the 
same." 

"  Well,  I  have  sworn  by  my  mother's  body — and  she  is 
your  sister,  sure  enough,"  Philippe  went  on — "to  make  your 
Rabouilleuse  as  pliant  as  my  glove  and  just  what  she  must 
have  been  before  that  blackguard,  who  is  unworthy  ever  to 
have  served  in  the  Imperial  Guard,  came  sponging  on  your 
household " 

"  Oh  !  if  you  could  only  do  that  !  "  said  the  old  man. 

"It  is  easy  enough,"  replied  Philippe,  cutting  him  short. 
**  I  will  kill  Maxence  like  a  dog — but — on  one  condition." 

"  What  is  that  ?  "  asked  old  Rouget,  looking  at  his  nephew 
with  a  blank  expression. 

"  Do  not  sign  the  power  of  attorney  they  are  asking  for 
before  the  3d  of  December  ;  drag  on  only  till  then.  Those 
two  vultures  want  your  license  to  sell  out  your  stock  for  fifty 
thousand  francs  a  year,  solely  to  go  and  get  married  in  Paris, 
and  there  have  a  high  time  with  your  million." 

"  I  am  very  much  afraid  of  it,"  said  Rouget. 

"  Well,  then,  whatever  they  may  do  to  you,  put  off  signing 
it  till  next  week." 

"Yes,  but  when  Flore  talks  to  me  she  upsets  me  so  that  it 
turns  my  brain.  I  tell  you,  she  has  a  way  of  looking  at  me 
that  makes  her  blue  eyes  seem  like  paradise,  and  I  am  no 
17 


258  A   BACHELOR':^  ESTABLISHMENT. 

longer  my  own  master,  particularly  as  there  are  days  wiien  she 
leaves  me  in  disgrace." 

"  Well,  if  she  is  all  honey,  just  be  satisfied  to  promise  her 
the  document  and  give  me  notice  the  day  before  you  sign  it. 
Maxence  will  never  be  your  representative — unless  he  has 
killed  me.  If  I  kill  him,  you  may  take  me  to  live  with  you 
in  his  place,  and  I  will  make  your  beauty  dance  at  a  word  or 
a  look.  Yes,  Flore  shall  be  fond  of  you,  or,  by  God,  if  she 
vexes  you,  I  will  give  her  a  hiding." 

"  Oh  !  that  I  would  never  allow.  A  blow  to  Flore  would 
fall  on  my  heart." 

"  And  yet  it  is  the  only  way  to  train  a  woman  or  a  horse. 
A  man  who  makes  himself  feared  is  loved  and  obeyed.  This 
is  all  I  wanted  to  say  in  your  private  ear.  Good-morning, 
gentlemen,"  said  he  to  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier.  "  I  am 
taking  my  uncle  for  a  little  walk,  you  see,  and  trying  to  teach 
him  ;  for  we  live  in  an  age  when  the  young  people  are  obliged 
to  educate  their  grandparents." 

Greetings  were  exchanged. 

"You  behold  in  my  dear  uncle  the  results  of  an  unfortu- 
nate passion,"  the  colonel  went  on.  "  He  is  about  to  be 
despoiled  of  his  fortune  and  left  stripped  like  Baba — you 
know  to  whom  I  allude.  The  good  man  knows  of  the  plot, 
but  he  cannot  make  up  his  mind  to  do  without  his  Nanna  for 
a  few  days  to  baffle  her,"  and  Philippe  frankly  explained  the 
position  in  which  his  uncle  stood. 

''You  see,  gentlemen,"  said  he  in  conclusion,  "that  there 
are  not  two  ways  of  setting  my  uncle  free.  Colonel  Bridau 
must  kill  Major  Gilet  or  Major  Gilet  must  kill  Colonel 
Bridau.  The  day  after  to-morrow  is  the  anniversary  of  the 
Emperor's  coronation,  at  which  Major  Gilet  and  myself  will 
be  present ;  I  count  on  you  so  to  arrange  the  seats  at  the  ban- 
quet that  I  may  be  opposite  to  Major  Gilet.  You  will,  I 
hope,  do  me  the  honor  to  act  as  my  seconds. ' ' 

"  We  will  put  you  in  the  chair  and  sit  on  each  side  of  you. 


A  BACHhLOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  259 

Max,  as  vice-president,  will  be  opposite  to  you,"  said  Mig- 
nonnet. 

"Oh,  the  scoundrel  will  have  Major  Potel  and  Captain 
Renard  for  his  seconds,"  said  Carpentier.  "In  spite  of  all 
that  is  rumored  in  the  town  about  his  nocturnal  excursions, 
those  two  capital  fellows  have  stood  by  him  before  now  ;  they 
will  be  faithful  to  him " 

"You  see,  uncle,  how  well  the  pot  is  simmering,"  said 
Philippe.  "Sign  nothing  before  the  3d,  for,  by  the  day 
after,  you  shall  be  free,  happy,  adored  by  Flore,  and  rid  of 
your  finance  minister." 

"You  do  not  know  him,  nephew,"  exclaimed  Rouget  in 
dismay.      "  Max  has  killed  nine  men  in  duels." 

"  Yes,  but  he  was  not  robbing  them  of  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  a  year,"  replied  Philippe. 

"A  bad  conscience  spoils  a  man's  hand,"  said  Mignonnet. 

"In  a  few  days,"  said  Philippe,  "you  and  La  Rabouil- 
leuse  will  be  living  together  like  hearts  li  ia  fleur  d' orange  *  zs 
soon  as  she  has  gotten  over  her  grief;  for  she  will  wriggle  like 
a  worm,  and  yelp,  and  melt  into  tears ;  but  let  the  tap  run  !" 

The  two  officers  supported  Philippe's  arguments,  and  tried 
their  utmost  to  put  some  heart  into  Pere  Rouget,  with  whom 
they  walked  for  about  two  hours.  At  last  Philippe  escorted  his 
uncle  home,  saying  as  his  last  word:  "  Come  to  no  decision 
without  consulting  me.  I  know  what  women  are.  I  paid 
for  one  more  dearly  than  Flore  will  ever  cost  you.  And  she 
taught  me  how  to  manage  the  fair  sex  for  the  rest  of  my  days. 
Women  are  just  naughty  children  ;  they  are  inferior  animals 
to  men  ;  we  must  make  them  afraid  of  us,  for  our  worst  fate  is 
to  be  led  by  the  nose  by  those  little  brutes  !  " 

It  was  about  two  in  the  afternoon  when  the  old  man  went 
in.  Kouski  opened  the  door  to  him,  in  tears,  or,  at  any 
ratp,  in  obedience  to  Maxence's  orders,  seeming  to  weep. 

*  Under  orange  blossoms;  i.  e.,  after  marriage. 


260  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  asked  Jean-Jacques. 

"  Oh,  monsieur  !  madame  has  gone  away  with  Vedie." 

"  Go-o-one  !  "  said  the  old  man,  in  a  voice  of  anguish. 

The  blow  was  so  tremendous  that  Rouget  sat  down  on  one 
of  the  steps  of  the  stairs.  A  moment  after  he  rose,  looked  in 
the  sitting-room,  in  the  kitchen,  went  up  to  his  own  room, 
walked  through  all  the  bedrooms,  came  back  into  the  sitting- 
room,  sank  into  an  armchair,  and  burst  into  tears. 

"  Where  is  she?  "  he  cried,  in  the  midst  of  sobs.  "  Where 
is  she?     Where  is  Max?  " 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  Kouski.  "The  major  went  out 
without  saying  a  word." 

Gilet,  very  astutely,  had  thought  it  diplomatic  to  wander 
round  the  town.  By  leaving  the  old  man  alone  in  his  despair, 
he  made  him  feel  how  deserted  he  was,  and  so  made  him 
amenable  to  his  counsels.  But  to  hinder  Philippe  from  sup- 
porting his  uncle  at  this  crisis,  Max  had  desired  Kouski  to  let 
no  one  into  the  house.  Flore  being  away,  the  old  man  had 
neither  bit  nor  bridle,  and  the  situation  was  excessively  critical. 

During  his  walk  through  the  town  Max  saw  himself  avoided 
by  many  persons  who,  only  the  day  before,  would  have  been 
most  eager  to  come  and  shake  hands  with  him.  There  was  a 
general  reaction  against  him.  The  feats  of  the  Knights  of 
Idlesse  were  on  every  tongue.  The  story  of  Jose[)h  Bridau's 
arrest,  which  was  now  explained,  cast  dishonor  on  Max,  whose 
life  and  deeds  had,  in  this  one  day,  met  with  their  due 
reward.  Gilet  met  Major  Polel,  who  was  looking  for  him, 
and  who  was  quite  beside  himself. 

"  What  is  wrong,  Potel  ?  " 

"  My  dear  fellow,  the  Imperial  Guard  is  blackguarded  all 
through  the  town  !  The  very  clerks  are  abusing  you,  and 
that  rebounds  on  me,  and  goes  to  my  heart." 

"  What  are  they  complaining  of  ?  "  asked  Max. 

"  Of  the  tricks  you  played  at  night." 

"As  if  a  little  amusement  were  forbidden " 


A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  2151 

"Oh  !  that  is  nothing,"  said  Putel. 

Potel  was  an  officer  of  the  stamp  of  tliose  who  said  to  a 
burgomaster,  "  Pooh  !  if  we  burn  your  town,  we  will  pay  for 
it !  "  so  he  was  not  much  concerned  by  the  pranks  of  the 
order. 

''What  else?"  said  Gilet. 

"The  Guard  is  divided  against  itself!  That  is  what 
breaks  my  heart.  It  is  Bridau  who  has  unchained  the  town 
against  you.  The  Guard  against  the  Guard  ?  No  ;  that  is  all 
wrong.  You  cannot  retreat,  Max;  you  must  meet  Bridau. 
I  declare  I  longed  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  that  great  scoundrel 
and  settle  him  out  of  hand  ;  then  these  black  coats  would  not 
have  seen  the  Guard  against  the  Guard.  In  war  I  say  nothing 
against  it ;  two  brave  fellows  have  a  squabble,  they  fight  it 
out  and  there  are  no  counter-jumpers  by  to  laugh  them  to 
scorn.  No,  that  long  rascal  never  was  in  the  Guards.  A 
man  of  the  Guard  ought  not  to  behave  so  before  all  these 
townsfolk  against  another  man  of  the  Guard.  Oh  !  the 
Guard  is  scoffed  at,  and  at  Issoudun  too,  where  it  used  to  be 
respected  !  " 

"  Come,  Major  Potel,  do  not  make  a  fuss  over  nothing," 
said  Max.  "Even  if  you  should  not  see  me  at  the  anni- 
versary dinner " 

"  Wliat !  you  are  not  coming  to  Lacroix's  the  day  after  to- 
morrow? "  cried  Potel,  interrupting  his  friend.  "  Why,  you 
will  be  called  a  coward ;  you  will  seem  to  be  keeping  out 
of  Bridau's  way  !  No,  no.  The  foot  grenadiers  of  the 
Guard  must  not  retreat  before  the  dragoons  of  the  Guard  ! 
Arrange  your  other  business  as  you  will,  but  be  there  !  " 

"  One  more  to  send  to  the  shades  !  "  said  Max.  "  Come,  I 
think  I  can  manage  my  business  and  be  there  too.  For," 
said  he  to  himself,  "  the  power  of  attorney  must  not  be  made 
out  to  me.  As  old  Heron  said,  that  would  look  too  much 
like  robbery." 

The  lion,  thus  entangled  in  the  net  laid  for  him  by  Phil- 


262  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMEi\T. 

ippe  Bridau,  set  his  teeth  with  an  inward  quiver  ;  he  avoided 
the  eye  of  the  persons  he  met,  and  went  home  by  the  Boule- 
vard Villate,  muttering  as  he  walked.  "  Before  I  fight  I  will 
get  those  securities,"  said  he  to  himself.  "If  I  fall,  that 
money,  at  any  rate,  shall  not  go  to  that  Philippe.  I  will 
have  it  placed  in  Flore's  name.  By  my  advice  the  child 
must  go  straight  to  Paris ;  and  there,  if  she  likes,  she  may 
marry  the  son  of  some  marshal  who  has  had  the  sack.  I  will 
have  the  power  of  attorney  made  out  to  Baruch,  who  will  not 
transfer  the  stock  without  my  orders." 

We  must  do  Max  the  justice  to  say  that  he  never  looked 
calmer  than  when  his  blood  and  brain  were  seething.  Never 
in  any  soldier  were  the  qualities  that  make  a  great  general 
combined  in  a  higher  degree.  If  he  had  not  been  checked 
in  his  career  by  being  taken  prisoner,  the  Emperor  would 
have  found  in  this  fellow  a  man  of  the  sort  needful  to  a  vast 
enterprise. 

On  going  into  the  room  where  the  victim  of  all  these  tragi- 
comic scenes  still  sat  sobbing.  Max  inquired  the  cause  of  his 
despair;  he  was  greatly  astonished;  he  knew  nothing;  he 
heard,  with  well-acted  surprise,  of  Flore's  departure,  and 
cross-questioned  Kouski  to  throw  some  light  on  the  purpose 
of  this  unaccountable  journey. 

"Madame  just  said  this,"  said  Kouski;  "I  was  to  tell 
monsieur  that  she  had  taken  the  twenty  thousand  francs  in 
gold  that  were  in  his  desk,  thinking  that  monsieur  would  not 
grudge  it  her  as  wages  for  these  two-and-twenty  years." 

"As  wages?"  said  Rouget. 

"Yes,"  said  Kouski.  "  'Oh,  I  shall  never  come  back!  ' 
She  went  away  saying  so  to  Vedie — for  poor  Vedie,  who  is 
greatly  attached  to  monsieur,  was  putting  it  to  madame. 
'  No,  no,'  says  she,  '  he  has  not  the  least  aflfection  for  me ;  he 
let  his  nephew  treat  me  like  the  scum  of  the  earth  !  '  and  she 
was  crying  too — ever  so  !  " 

"  What  do  I  care  for  Philippe  !  "  cried  the  old  man,  whom 


A   BACIIELOIVS  ESTABLISHMENT.  2G8 

Max  was  watching.     "Where  is  Flore?     How  can  we  find 
out  where  she  is  ?  " 

"Philippe,  whose  advice  you  are  so  ready  to  take,  will 
help  you,"  said  Maxence  coldly. 

"Philippe?"  said  the  old  man;  "what  can  he  do  with 
the  poor  child  ?  There  is  no  one  but  you,  my  good  Max, 
who  can  find  Flore  ;  she  will  come  with  you  ;  you  will  bring 
her  back  to  me." 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  find  myself  in  antagonism  with  Monsieur 
Bridau,"  said  Max. 

"By  heaven!"  cried  Rouget,  "if  that  is  all — he  has 
promised  me  that  he  will  kill  you." 

"Ah,  ha  !  "  laughed  Gilet,  "we  will  see " 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  old  man,  "find  Flore;  tell 
her  I  will  do  whatever  she  wishes " 

"She  must  have  been  seen  passing  by  somewhere  in  the 
town,"  said  Maxence  to  Kouski.  "  Serve  dinner,  put  every- 
thing on  the  table,  and  then  go  from  place  to  place,  making 
inquiries,  and  tell  us  at  dessert  what  road  Mademoiselle 
Brazier  has  taken." 

This  order  soothed  the  poor  man  for  a  minute  ;  for  he 
was  whimpering  like  a  child  that  has  lost  its  nurse.  At  this 
moment  Max,  whom  Rouget  hated  as  the  cause  of  all  his 
misfortunes,  appeared  to  him  as  an  angel.  A  passion  like 
Rouget's  for  Flore  is  strangely  like  a  child's.  At  six  o'clock 
the  Pole,  who  had  simply  taken  a  walk,  came  in  and  an- 
nounced that  Flore  had  set  out  for  Vatan. 

"  Madame  has  gone  back  to  her  native  place,  that  is  clear," 
said  Kouski. 

"Will  you  come  to  Vatan  this  evening?"  asked  Max  of 
the  old  man.  "The  road  is  bad,  but  Kouski  drives  well, 
and  you  will  make  up  your  quarrel  better  at  eight  o'clock  this 
evening  than  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Let  us  be  off,"  cried  Rouget. 

"  Put  the   horse  in  very  quietly  and    try  to  prevent  the 


264  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

town  hearing  all  about  this  foolish  business,  for  Monsieur 
Rouget's  dignity,"  said  Max.  "  Saddle  my  liorse,  and  1  will 
ride  ahead,"  he  added  in  Kouski's  ear. 

Monsieur  Hochon  had  already  sent  news  of  Mademoiselle 
Brazier's  departure  to  Philippe  Bridau,  who  rose  from  table 
at  Monsieur  Mignonnet's  to  hurry  back  to  the  Place  Saint- 
Jean,  for  he  guessed  at  once  the  purpose  of  this  skillful 
strategy.  When  Philippe  went  to  his  uncle's  door  Kouski 
called  to  him  out  of  a  first-floor  window  that  Monsieur  Rouget 
could  receive  no  one. 

"  Fario,"  said  he  to  the  Spaniard,  who  was  walking  in  the 
Grande  Narette,  "  go  and  tell  Benjamin  to  set  out  on  horse- 
back ;  I  must  positively  know  where  my  uncle  and  Maxence 
are  going." 

"They  are  putting  the  horse  to  the  barouche,"  said  Fario, 
who  had  been  watching  Rouget's  house. 

"  If  they  start  for  Vatan,"  replied  Philippe,  '•  find  a  second 
horse  for  me,  and  return  with  Benjamin  to  Monsieur  Mignon- 
net's house." 

"What  do  you  propose  doing?"  asked  Monsieur  Hochon, 
who  came  out  of  his  house  on  seeing  Philippe  and  Fario  on 
the  Place. 

"A  general's  skill,  my  dear  Monsieur  Hochon,  consists 
not  merely  in  keeping  a  sharp  lookout  on  the  enemy's  move- 
ments, but  also  in  guessing  his  intentions  from  his  movements, 
and  constantly  modifying  his  own  plan  as  fast  as  the  foe 
upsets  it  by  some  unexpected  tactics.  Look  here ;  if  my 
uncle  and  Maxence  go  out  together  in  the  chaise,  they  are 
going  to  Vatan  ;  Maxence  will  have  promised  to  reconcile 
him  to  Flore,  -who  fugit  ad  saiii-es — for  this  manoeuvre  is  Gen- 
eral Virgil's.  If  this  is  their  game,  I  don't  know  what  I  shall 
do.  But  I  have  the  night  before  me,  for  my  uncle  cannot 
sign  a  power  of  attorney  at  ten  o'clock  at  night ;  notaries 
are  in  bed. 

"  If,  as  the  pawing  of  a  second  horse  suggests  to  me,  Max 


A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  205 

is  going  ahead  to  give  Fiure  her  insiructions  before  she  sees 
my  uncle — as  seems  necessary  and  probable — the  rascal  is 
done  for  !  You  will  see  how  we  play  a  return  match  in  the 
game  of  inheritance,  we  soldiers.  And  since,  for  this  last 
hand  in  the  game,  I  need  an  assistant,  I  am  going  to  Mig- 
nonnet's  to  make  arrangements  with  my  friend  Carpentier," 

After  shaking  hands  with  Monsieur  Hochon,  Philippe  went 
down  the  Petite  Narette  to  see  Major  Mignonnet.  Ten  min- 
utes later.  Monsieur  Hochon  saw  Maxence  set  out  at  a  hard 
galop ;  and  being  curious,  as  old  men  are,  he  was  so  much 
interested  that  he  remained  standing  at  the  window  waiting 
to  hear  the  rattle  of  the  demi-fortune ,  which  was  soon  audible. 
Rouget's  impatience  brought  him  out  twenty  minutes  after 
Max.  Kouski,  in  obedience  to  his  real  master,  was  driving 
slowly — at  any  rate,  in  the  town. 

"  If  they  get  off  to  Paris,  all  is  lost !  "  said  Monsieur  Ho- 
chon to  himself. 

At  this  moment  a  little  boy  from  the  Roman  suburb  came 
to  Monsieur  Hochon's  door ;  he  had  a  letter  for  Baruch.  The 
old  man's  two  grandsons,  very  humble  since  the  morning, 
had  of  their  own  accord  stayed  at  home.  Reflecting  on  the 
future,  they  well  understood  how  wise  they  would  be  to  humor 
their  grandparents.  Baruch  could  not  but  know  how  great 
his  grandfather  Hochon's  influence  would  be  over  his  grand- 
father and  grandmother  Borniche  ;  Monsieur  Hochon  would 
not  fail  to  secure  tlie  lion's  share  of  all  their  money  to  Adol- 
phine  if  his  conduct  should  justify  them  in  founding  their 
hopes  on  such  a  grand  marriage  as  they  had  threatened  him 
with  that  morning.  Baruch,  being  much  richer  than  Frangois, 
had  much  to  lose ;  so  he  was  in  favor  of  complete  submission, 
making  no  conditions  but  that  his  debt  to  Max  should  be  paid. 
Francois'  prospects  were  entirely  in  his  grandfather's  hands; 
he  had  no  fortune  to  look  for  but  from  him,  since,  from  the 
account  of  his  guardianship,  the  youth  was  his  debtor.  So 
the  two  young  men  made  solemn  promises,  their  repentance 


0(5fi  A    BACHELOR'S  ESl'ABLISHMEXT. 

being  stimulated  by  ihcir  damagcci  pruspecis,  and  Madame 
Hochon  had  reassured  them  as  to  the  money  they  owed  to 
Maxence. 

"You  have  played  the  fool!"  said  she.  "Repair  the 
mischief  by  good  conduct,  and  Monsieur  Hochon  will  be 
molHfied." 

Thus,  when  Francois  had  read  the  letter  over  Baruch's 
shoulder,  he  said  in  his  ear — 

"Ask  grandpapa  what  he  thinks  of  it." 

"  Here,"  said  Baruch,  handing  the  letter  to  the  old  man. 

"  Read  it  to  me ;  I  am  without  my  spectacles." 

"  My  dear  Friend  : — I  hope  you  will  not  hesitate,  in  the 
serious  position  in  which  I  am  placed,  to  do  me  a  service  by 
accepting  the  office  of  Monsieur  Rouget's  attorney.  Pray  be 
at  Vatan  by  nine  o'clock  to-morrow.  I  shall  no  doubt  send 
you  to  Paris ;  but  be  quite  easy,  I  will  give  you  money  for  the 
journey,  and  join  you  ere  long,  for  I  am  almost  certain  to  be 
obliged  to  leave  Issoudun  on  the  3d  of  December.  Adieu;  1 
rely  on  your  friendship,  and  you  may  rely  on  mine. 

"  Maxence." 

"God  be  praised  !  "  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  "  tliat  idiot's 
fortune  is  safe  from  the  clutches  of  those  devils  !  " 

"It  must  be  so,  since  you  say  it,"  observed  Madame  Ho- 
chon, "and  I  thank  God  for  it ;  He  has  no  doubt  heard  my 
prayers.     The  triumph  of  the  wicked  is  always  brief." 

"  Go  to  Vatan,  and  accept  the  office  of  attorney  to  Mon- 
sieur Rouget,"  said  the  old  man  to  Barucli.  "  You  will  be 
desired  to  transfer  stock  bearing  fifty  thousand  francs  interest 
to  the  name  of  Mademoiselle  Brazier.  Set  out  for  Paris,  but 
stop  at  Orleans,  and  wait  till  you  hear  from  me.  Tell  no  one 
whatever  where  you  put  up.  and  go  to  the  last  inn  you  see  in 
the  Faubourg  Bannier,  even  if  it  is  but  a  carrier's  house  of 
call." 


A    BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  ^&1 

"Hey-day!"  cried  Francois,  who  had  rushed  to  the  win- 
dow at  the  sound  of  carriage-wheels  in  the  Grande  Narette  ; 
"  here  is  something  new  !  Pere  Rouget  and  Monsieur  Philippe 
have  come  home  together  in  the  carriage,  Benjamin  and  Mon- 
sieur Carpentier  following  them  on  horseback " 

"I  will  go  across,"  cried  Monsieur  Hochon,  his  curiosity 
getting  the  upper  liand  of  every  other  feeling. 

Monsieur  Hochon  found  old  Rouget  in  his  room,  writing 
the  following  letter  from  his  nephew's  dictation: 

"Mademoiselle: — If  you  do  not  set  out  the  instant  you 
receive  this  letter  to  return  to  me,  your  conduct  will  show  so 
much  ingratitude  for  all  my  kindness  that  I  shall  revoke  my 
will  in  your  favor  and  leave  my  whole  fortune  to  my  nephew 
Philippe.  You  must  also  understand  that,  if  Monsieur  Gilet 
is  with  you  at  Vatan,  he  can  never  again  live  under  my  roof. 
I  intrust  this  letter  to  Monsieur  Carpentier  to  be  delivered  to 
you,  and  I  hope  you  will  listen  to  his  advice,  for  he  will  speak 
to  you  as  I  should  myself. 

"Yours  affectionately, 

"J. -J.  Rouget." 

"Captain  Carpentier  and  I  happened  to  meet  my  uncle," 
said  Philippe  to  Monsieur  Hochon  with  bitter  irony.  "He 
was  so  foolish  as  to  intend  going  to  Vatan  to  seek  Mademoi- 
selle Brazier  and  Major  Gilet.  I  explained  to  ray  uncle  that 
he  was  running  head  foremost  into  a  trap.  Will  not  that 
woman  throw  him  over  as  soon  as  he  shall  have  signed  the 
power  of  attorney  she  insists  on  to  enable  her  to  transfer  to 
herself  the  stock  for  fifty  thousand  francs  a  year?  By  writing 
this  letter,  will  he  not  see  her  back  here  to-night,  under  his 
roof — the  fair  deserter!"  Then,  addressing  Carpentier,  "I 
promise  I  will  make  mademoiselle  as  pliant  as  a  reed  for  the 
rest  of  her  life,  if  only  my  uncle  will  allow  me  to  take  the 
place  of  Monsieur  Gilet,  who,   in  my  opinion   is   certainly 


268  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMEXT. 

not  in  the  right  place  here.  Am  I  not  right?  And  my 
uncle  wrings  his  liands  !  " 

"  My  good  neighbor,"  said  Monsieur  Hochon,  "  you  liave 
taken  the  best  means  of  securing  peace  in  your  house.  If 
you  will  listen  to  me,  you  will  destroy  your  will,  and  then 
you  will  once  more  see  Flore  all  that  she  was  in  former  days." 

"No;  she  will  never  forgive  me  for  making  her  so  un- 
happy," added  the  old  man,  weeping;  "she  will  never  love 
me  again." 

"Yes,  she  will  love  you,  and  heartily  too,"  replied  Phil- 
ippe.     "  I  will  see  to  that." 

"  But  open  your  eyes,  man  !  "  put  in  Monsieur  Hochon  to 
Rouget.      "  They  only  want  to  rob  you  and  desert  you  !  " 

"Oh,  if  I  were  only  sure  of  that!"  exclaimed  the  poor 
creature. 

"  Look  here.  This  is  a  letter  written  by  Maxence  to  my 
grandson,  Borniche,"  said  old  Hochon.    "  Read  it." 

"The  wretch!"  exclaimed  Carpentier,  as  he  heard  the 
letter  which  Rouget  read  through  his  tears. 

"  Is  that  clear  enough,  uncle?  "  asked  Philippe.  "  I  tell 
you,  bind  the  minx  to  you  by  interest  and  you  will  be  adored 
— as  you  can  be — half-thread  and  half-cotton  !  " 

"  She  is  too  fond  of  Maxence;  she  will  throw  me  over  !  " 
said  the  old  man  piteously. 

"  I  tell  you,  uncle,  by  the  day  after  to-morrow  eitiier  I  or 
Maxence  will  have  ceased  to  leave  our  tracks  on  the  streets  of 
Issoudun " 

"  Well,"  said  the  poor  fellow,  "  go,  Monsieur  Carpentier; 
if  you  promise  me  that  she  will  come  back,  go.  You  are  a 
man  to  be  depended  on  ;  say  to  her  all  you  think  fit  in  my 
name." 

"  Captain  Carpentier  will  whisper  in  her  ear  that  I  am 
having  a  lady  here  from  Paris  who  is  a  little  gem  of  youth 
and  beauty,"  said  Philippe,  "  and  the  minx  will  come  back  as 
fast  as  she  can  drive." 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  2G9 

The  captain  set  out,  himself  driving,  in  the  old  chaise; 
Benjamin  accompanied  him  on  horseback,  for  Kouski  was  not 
to  be  found.  Though  the  two  officers  had  threatened  him 
with  an  action  and  the  loss  of  his  place,  the  Pole  had  fled  to 
Vatan  on  a  hired  horse,  to  warn  Maxence  and  Flore  of  their 
adversary's  bold  game. 

Carpentier,  who  did  not  choose  to  return  with  La  Rabouil- 
leuse,  was  to  ride  back  on  Benjamin's  horse  when  he  had 
carried  out  his  mission. 

On  hearing  of  Kouski's  desertion,  Philippe  said  to  Ben- 
jamin— 

"  You  can  take  his  place  here  this  evening.  Try  to  climb 
up  at  the  back  of  the  chaise  without  being  seen  by  Flore,  so 
as  to  be  here  by  the  time  she  is." 

"Things  are  shaping.  Daddy  Hochon  !  "  said  the  colonel. 
"There  will  be  fun  at  the  banquet  the  day  after  to-morrow." 

"  And  you  will  settle  yourself  here  ?  "  queried  the  old  miser. 

"  I  have  told  Fario  to  send  in  all  my  things.  I  shall  sleep 
in  the  room  that  opens  on  to  the  same  landing  as  Gilet's;  my 
uncle  agrees." 

"  Oh  !  what  will  come  of  all  this?  "  cried  the  old  man  in 
dismay. 

"  Mademoiselle  Flore  Brazier  will  come  of  it,  within  a  few 
hours,  as  mild  as  a  Paschal  lamb,"  replied  Monsieur  Hochon. 

"  God  grant  it !  "  said  Jean-Jacques,  drying  away  his  tears. 

"It  is  now  seven  o'clock,"  said  Philippe.  "The  queen 
of  your  heart  will  be  here  by  about  half-past  eleven.  You 
will  see  no  more  of  Gilct ;  will  you  not  be  as  happy  as  a  pope  ? 
If  you  want  me  to  succeed,"  Philippe  added  in  Monsieur 
Hochon's  ear,  "remain  with  us  till  that  she-ape  comes;  you 
will  help  me  to  keep  the  old  fellow  at  the  sticking-point ;  and 
then,  between  us,  we  can  make  Mademoiselle  la  Rabouilleuse 
understand  where  her  true  interests  lie." 

Monsieur  Hochon  kejit  Pliilippe  company,  seeing  tliat  there 
was  sense  in  his  request  ;  but  they  both  had  their  hands  full, 


270  A  BACUELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

for  Pere  Rouget  gave  himself  up  to  childish  lamentations, 
which  were  not  checked  by  the  arguments  Philippe  repeated 
ten  times  over — 

"  Well,  uncle,  if  Flore  comes  back  and  is  affectionate  to 
you,  you  will  admit  that  I  am  right.  You  will  be  made  much 
of;  you  will  keep  your  income;  you  will  be  guided  for  the 
future  by  my  advice,  and  all  will  go  on  like  paradise." 

When  at  half-past  eleven  the  sound  of  wheels  was  heard  in 
the  Grande  Narette,  the  question  was  whether  the  carriage 
had  returned  empty  or  full.  Rouget's  face  wore  an  expres- 
sion of  indescribable  anguish,  which  gave  way  to  the  reaction 
of  excessive  joy  when,  as  the  chaise  turned  to  come  in,  he  saw 
in  it  the  two  women. 

"Kouski,"  said  Philippe,  giving  his  hand  to  Flore  to  get 
out,  "you  are  dismissed  from  Monsieur  Rouget's  service. 
You  are  not  to  sleep  here  to-niglit,  so  pack  your  things; 
Benjamin  here  will  fill  your  place." 

"  So  you  are  master  ?  "  said  Flore,  with  a  sneer. 
"  By  your  leave  !  "  retorted  Philippe,  holding  Flore's  hand 
as  in  a  vise.       "Come  with  me;   we  have  to  rabouilUr  our 
hearts,  you  and  I." 

Philippe  led  the  woman,  dumfounded,  out  a  few  yards  on 
to  the  Place  Saint-Jean. 

"  Now,  my  beauty  ;  the  day  after  to-morrow  Gilet  will  be 
sent  to  the  shades  below  by  this  right  arm,"  said  the  officer, 
holding  it  out,  "  or  he  will  have  caught  me  off  my  guard.  If 
I  fall,  you  will  be  the  mistress  in  my  uncle's  house — bene  sit ! 
If  I  am  left  standing  on  my  pegs,  you  will  have  to  keep  him 
in  happiness  of  the  very  first  quality.  Otherwise,  I  know 
■^\tx\X.y  q{  rabouilieuses  in  Paris,  prettier  than  you,  without  any 
injustice  to  you,  for  they  are  but  seventeen  ;  they  would  make 
my  uncle  very  happy,  and  not  fail  to  take  my  part.  Begin 
your  task  this  very  evening,  for  if  the  old  man  is  not  as  lively 
as  a  chaffinch  to-morrow,  I  have  only  one  thing  to  say  to  you 
— and  mark    my  words — there  is  only  one  way  of  killing  a 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  271 

man  without  the  law  having  a  word  to  say  to  it,  and  that  is 
by  fighting  a  duel ;  but  when  it  comes  to  a  woman — I  know 
three  ways  of  getting  rid  of  her.     There,  my  pigeon  !  " 

All  through  this  address  Flore  had  been  shaking  like  an 
ague-patient. 

"Kill  Max ?"  she  said,  looking  at  Philippe   in    the 

moonlight. 

'•  Now,  go.     See,  here  is  my  uncle " 

In  fact,  old  Rouget,  in  spite  of  all  that  Monsieur  Hochon 
could  say,  had  come  out  into  the  street  to  take  Flore  by  the 
hand,  as  a  miser  might  have  sought  his  treasure.  He  led 
her  into  the  house  and  into  his  room,  and  locked  the  door 
against  all  intrusion. 

"This  is  good  Saint-Lambert's  Day,  those  who  leave  must 
stay  away,"  said  Benjamin  to  the  Pole. 

"Oh,  my  master  will  shut  all  your  mouths,"  retorted 
Kouski,  going  off  to  join  Max,  who  put  up  at  the  Hotel  de 
la  Poste. 

Next  day,  from  nine  till  eleven,  all  the  women  were  gossip- 
ing at  the  house-doors.  All  through  the  town  nothing  was 
talked  of  but  the  wonderful  revolution  carried  out  the  day 
before  in  Pere  Rouget's  household.  The  upshot  of  these 
discussions  was  everywhere  the  same. 

"  What  will  happen  between  Max  and  Colonel  Bridau  at 
the  anniversary  banquet  to-morrow  ?  " 

To  Vedie,  Philippe  spoke  a  few  words — "  An  annuity  of  six 
hundred  francs — or  dismissal  !  "  which  reduced  her  to  neu- 
trality for  the  time  between  two  such  formidable  powers  as 
Philippe  and  Flore. 

Knowing  Max's  life  to  be  imperiled,  Flore  was  sweeter  to 
old  Rouget  than  even  in  the  early  days  of  their  housekeeping. 
Alas  !  in  love  affairs,  interested  fraud  overrides  sincerity,  and 
that  is  why  so  many  men  pay  clever  beguilers  so  dear.  La 
Rabouilleuse  remained  invisible  next  morning  till  breakfast 
time,  when  she  came  down,  giving  her  arm  to  Pere  Rouget. 


272  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

The  tears  rose  to  her  eyes  as  she  saw  in  Max's  seat  the  terrible 
veteran  with  his  gloomy  blue  eye  and  ominously  calm  face. 

"  What  ails  you,  mademuiselie  ?  "  said  he,  after  wishing  his 
uncle  good-morning. 

"  What  ails  her,  nepliew,  is  that  she  cannot  bear  the  idea 
of  your  fighting  Major  Gilet " 

"  I  have  not  the  slightest  wish  to  kill  your  Gilet,"  replied 
Philippe.  "  He  has  only  to  clear  out  of  Issoudun  and  ship 
himself  to  America  with  a  parcel  of  merchandise;  I  should 
be  the  first  to  advise  you  to  give  him  some  money  to  invest  in 
the  best  class  of  goods,  and  to  wish  him  good-luck  !  He  will 
make  a  fortune,  and  it  would  be  more  creditable  than  running 
riot  through  the  town  o'nights — not  to  mention  playing  the 
devil  in  your  house." 

"  Well,  that  is  very  handsome,  eh  !  "  said  Rouget,  turning 
to  Flore. 

*'  To  A-me-ri-ca  !  "  said  she,  sobbing. 

"  He  would  be  better  off  kicking  his  heels  in  New  York 
than  tucked  up  in  a  deal  box  in  France.  But,  of  course,  you 
may  say  he  is  a  crack  hand  ;  he  may  kill  me  !  "  remarked  the 
colonel. 

"Will  you  allow  me  to  speak  to  him?"  said  Flore  in  a 
(inite  liumble  and  submissive  tone  to  Philippe. 

"  Certainly,  and  he  may  come  and  take  away  all  his  things. 
But  I  shall  stay  with  my  uncle  meanwhile  ;  for  I  do  not  intend 
to  leave  the  old  man  any  more,"  replied  Philippe. 

"  Vedie,"  called  Flore,  "run  to  the  Postc,  woman,  and 
tell  tlie  major  that  I  beg  him  to " 

"  To  come  and  take  away  his  things,"  said  Philippe,  inter- 
rupting Flore. 

"  Yes,  yes,  Vcdic.  That  will  be  the  best  excuse  for  asking 
him  to  come  ;   I  want  to  speak  to  him." 

Fear  so  completely  overpowered  hatred  in  this  woman,  and 
her  dismay  at  meeting  a  strong  niid  ruthless  will,  when  hitherto 
she  liad  always  met  with  adulation,  was  so  great,  that  slic  was 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  2T.^ 

beginning  to  give  way  before  Philippe,  as  poor  old  Rouget 
had  given  way  before  her.  She  awaited  with  anxiety  Vedie's 
return  ;  but  Vedie  came  back  with  a  positive  refusal  from  Max, 
who  begged  Mademoiselle  Brazier  to  send  all  his  possessions 
to  the  Hotel  de  la  Poste, 

"Will  you  let  me  take  them  to  him?"  she  asked  old 
Rouget. 

"  Yes — but  you  promise  to  come  back?"  said  the  old  man. 

"  If  mademoiselle  is  not  here  by  midday,  at  one  o'clock, 
you  will  give  me  a  power  of  attorney  to  transfer  your  securi- 
ties," said  Philippe,  looking  at  Flore.  "  Take  Vedie  for  the 
sake  of  appearances,  mademoiselle.  Henceforth  we  must 
guard  my  uncle's  honor." 

Flore  could  get  nothing  out  of  Maxence.  The  major,  in 
his  disgust  at  having  allowed  himself  to  be  ousted  from  his 
disgraceful  position  before  the  eyes  of  the  whole  town,  was 
too  proud  to  retreat  before  Philippe.  La  Rabouilleuse  com- 
bated his  arguments  by  proposing  to  her  lover  that  they 
should  fly  together  to  America  ;  but  Gilet,  who  did  not  want 
Flore  without  Pere  Rouget's  fortune,  while  he  would  not  let 
the  woman  see  to  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  persisted  in  saying 
that  he  meant  to  kill  Philippe. 

"  We  have  committed  a  stupid  blunder,"  said  he.  "We 
ought  to  have  gone,  all  three  of  us,  to  spend  the  winter  in 
Paris.  But  how  could  we  imagine  from  looking  at  that  gaunt 
carcass  that  things  would  turn  out  as  they  have  done?  Events 
have  come  with  such  a  rush  that  it  has  turned  my  brain.  I 
took  the  colonel  for  a  swashbuckler  without  two  ideas  ;  that 
was  my  mistake.  Since  I  was  not  sharp  enough  in  the  first 
instance  to  double  like  a  hare,  I  should  be  a  coward  now  if  I 
yielded  an  inch  to  the  colonel  ;  he  has  ruined  me  in  the 
opinion  of  the  town  ;  only  his  death  can  rehabilitate  me." 

"Go  to  America  with  forty  thousand  francs.  I  will  find 
some  way  of  getting  rid  of  that  savage  ;  I  will  join  you  there ; 

it  will  be  much  wiser " 

18 


274  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  What  would  people  think  of  me  ?  "  he  exclaimed,  stung  by 
the  thought  of  the  inevitable  "  jaw."  "  No.  Besides,  I  have 
already  settled  nine.  That  fellow  can  be  no  great  duelist,  it 
seems  to  me.  He  left  school  to  go  into  the  army  ;  he  was 
always  in  the  wars  till  1S15,  since  that  he  has  been  traveling 
in  America  ;  so  my  bull-dog  can  never  have  set  foot  in  a  fenc- 
ing school,  while  I  have  no  match  at  sword-play.  The 
cavalry  sword  is  his  arm  ;  I  shall  seem  magnanimous  by  pro- 
posing it — for  I  shall  try  to  make  him  insult  me,  and  I  will 
make  short  work  of  him.  Decidedly  that  is  the  best  thing  to 
do.  Be  easy ;  we  shall  be  masters  again  the  day  after  to- 
morrow. ' ' 

Thus  with  Max  a  foolish  point  of  honor  outweighed  rational 
policy.  Flore  was  at  home  by  one  o'clock  and  shut  herself 
into  her  room  to  cry  at  her  ease.  All  that  day  gossip  wagged 
its  tongue  freely  in  Issoudun,  for  a  duel  between  Maxence  and 
Philippe  was  considered  inevitable. 

"Ah!  Monsieur  Hochon,"  said  Mignonnet,  who  met  the 
old  man  on  the  Boulevard  Baron,  where  the  captain  was  walk- 
ing with  Carpentier,  "we  are  very  anxious,  for  Gilet  is  equally 
strong  with  all  weapons." 

"Never  mind,"  said  the  old  provincial  diplomat,  "Phil- 
ippe has  managed  the  whole  business  very  well — and  I  never 
should  have  believed  that  that  long,  free-and-easy  rascal 
would  have  succeeded  so  quickly.  Those  two  fellows  rolled 
up  to  meet  each  other  like  two  storm-clouds " 

"  Oh,"  said  Carpentier,  "  Philippe  is  a  very  deep  customer. 
His  conduct  before  the  supreme  court  was  a  masterpiece  of 
skill." 

"Halloo!  Captain  Renard,"  said  a  townsman,  "  they  say 
that  wolves  do  not  eat  each  other,  but  it  seems  that  Max  is 
going  to  try  a  ripping  match  with  Colonel  Bridau.  It  will 
be  no  child's  play  between  men  of  the  Old  Guard  !  " 

"And  you  can  laugh  at  it,  you  townsmen.  Because  the 
poor  fellow  liked  a  lark  at  night,  you  owe  him  a  grudge," 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  275 

said  Major  Potel.  "  But  Gilet  is  a  man  who  could  never  stay 
in  such  a  hole  as  Issoudun  without  finding  something  to  do." 

"Well,  well,  gentlemen,"  said  another,  "Max  and  the 
colonel  have  played  the  game  out.  Was  not  the  colonel 
bound  to  avenge  his  brother  Joseph  ?  Do  you  remember 
Max's  treachery  towards  that  poor  fellow?" 

"Bah  !  an  artist  !  "   said  Renard. 

"  But  Pere  Rouget's  leavings  are  in  the  balance.  They 
say  that  Monsieur  Gilet  was  about  to  pounce  on  fifty  thou- 
sand francs  a  year  when  the  colonel  went  to  live  under  his 
uncle's  roof." 

"Gilet — steal  anybody's  money?  Look  here,  Monsieur 
Canivet,  do  not  say  that  anywhere  but  here,  or  we  will  make 
you  eat  your  words  without  any  sauce  to  them." 

But  the  worthy  Colonel  Bridau  had  the  good-wishes  of  all 
the  townspeople. 

On  the  morrow,  at  about  four  o'clock,  the  officers  of  the 
imperial  army  who  resided  at  Issoudun  or  in  the  neighbor- 
hood were  walking  to  and  fro  in  the  market-place,  in  front 
of  an  eating-house  kept  by  one  Lacroix,  waiting  for  Philippe 
Bridau.  TJie  banquet  in  honor  of  the  anniversary  of  the 
coronation  was  fixed  for  five  o'clock,  military  time.  Several 
groups  were  discussing  Maxence's  affairs  and  his  eviction 
from  Rouget's  house,  for  the  private  soldiers  had  also  agreed 
to  hold  a  meeting  at  a  tavern  on  the  place.  Of  all  the  offi- 
cers, Potel  and  Renard  alone  attempted  to  defend  their  friend. 

"  Is  it  our  part  to  interfere  in  what  goes  on  between  two 
heirs?"  said  Renard. 

"Max  is  soft  to  women,"  remarked  Potel  the  cynic. 

"  Swords  will  be  drawn  before  long,"  said  a  retired  sub- 
lieutenant, who  now  cultivated  a  market-garden  in  the  upper 
Baltan.  "Though  Monsieur  Maxence  was  a  fool  to  go  to 
live  with  Pere  Rouget,  he  would  be  a  coward  to  take  his  dis- 
missal like  a  servant  without  asking  the  reason." 


276  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Mignonnet  drily.  "  When  an  act  of 
folly  fails,  it  becomes  a  crime." 

Max,  who  presently  joined  the  old  Bonapartist  soldiers,  was 
received  with  very  significant  silence.  Potel  and  Renard 
each  took  an  arm,  and  led  Max  a  little  way  off  to  talk  to  him. 
At  this  moment  Philippe  appeared  in  the  distance  in  full 
dress  ;  he  dragged  his  cane  with  an  imperturbable  air  that 
contrasted  with  the  deep  attention  Max  was  obliged  to  give 
to  what  his  two  last  friends  were  saying.  Philippe  shook 
hands  with  Mignonnet,  Carpentier,  and  a  few  others.  This 
reception,  so  unlike  that  which  Max  had  just  met  with,  finally 
dispelled  from  the  mind  of  the  latter  certain  dawnings  of 
cowardice — or  of  prudence,  if  you  please — to  which  Flore's 
entreaties,  and,  above  all,  her  affection,  had  given  rise  when 
at  last  he  had  been  left  face  to  face  with  himself 

"We  will  fight,"  said  he  to  Captain  Renard,  "and  to  the 
death  !  So  talk  to  me  no  more  ;  leave  me  to  play  my  part 
out." 

After  these  words,  spoken  in  a  fever  of  excitement,  the 
three  men  rejoined  the  other  groups  of  officers.  Max  bowed 
first  to  Bridau,  who  returned  the  compliment  with  a  very  cold 
stare. 

"  Come,  gentlemen  ;   to  dinner,"  said  Major  Potel. 

"  And  to  drink  to  the  imperishable  glory  of  the  little  Crop- 
head,  who  is  now  in  the  paradise  of  the  brave,"  cried  Renard. 

All  the  party,  feeling  that  the  business  of  dinner  would  put 
them  in  better  countenance,  understood  the  little  light-horse 
captain's  intentions.  They  hurried  into  the  long,  low  dining- 
room  of  the  Restaurant  Lacroix,  of  which  the  windows  looked 
out  on  the  market-place.  Each  guest  at  once  took  his  scat  at 
table,  and  the  adversaries  found  themselves  face  to  face,  as 
Philippe  had  requested.  Several  of  the  youth  of  the  town, 
especially  the  ex-Knights  of  Idlesse,  somewhat  uneasy  as  to 
what  might  take  place  at  this  dinner,  walked  about  outside, 
discussing  the  critical  position  in  whi(  h  Philippe  had   con- 


A  BACH  EI  OR' S  EST.iB  f.lSfiMENT.  277 

trlved  to  place  Maxence  Gilet.     They  deplored  the  collision, 
while  admitting  that  a  duel  was  necessary. 

All  went  well  till  dessert,  though  the  two  fighting  men  kept 
a  sort  of  watch  on  each  other,  not  far  removed  from  uneasi- 
ness, in  spite  of  the  apparent  cheerfulness  of  the  meal.  Pend- 
ing the  quarrel,  which  both,  no  doubt,  were  meditating,  Philippe 
was  admirably  cool  and  Max  boisterously  gay;  but,  to  the 
connoisseur,  each  was  playing  a  part. 

When  dessert  was  on  the  table,  Philippe  said — 

"Fill  your  glasses,  my  friends;  I  claim  permission  to  pro- 
pose our  first  toast." 

"  He  said  '  My  friends ; '  do  not  fill  your  glass,"  said  Cap- 
tain Renard  in  Max's  ear. 

But  Max  poured  out  some  wine. 

"The  Grand  Army!"  crietl  Philippe  with  genuine  en- 
thusiasm. 

"  The  Grand  Army  !  "  was  repeated  like  one  word  by  every 
voice. 

At  this  moment  in  the  doorway  tliere  appeared  eleven  pri- 
vate soldiers,  among  them  Benjamin  and  Kouski,  who  all 
repeated,  "  The  Grand  Army  !  " 

"Come  in,  boys;  we  are  going  to  drink  his  health,"  said 
Major  Potel. 

The  old  soldiers  came  in  and  remained  standing  behind 
the  officers. 

"  You  see,  he  is  not  really  dead  !  "  said  Kouski  to  an  old 
sergeant,  who  had,  no  doubt,  been  deploring  the  Emperor's 
long  agony,  now  at  last  ended. 

"  I  claim  the  second  toast,"  said  Major  Mignonnet. 

A  few  of  the  dessert  dishes  were  disturbed  to  keep  up  ap- 
pearances.    Mignonnet  rose. 

"To  those  who  tried  to  reinstate  his  son  !  "  said  he. 

Every  one,  with  the  exception  of  Maxence  Gilet,  lifted  his 
glass  to  Philippe  Bridau. 

"  It  is  my  turn  !  "  said  Max,  rising. 


278  /I  BACHELOR'S  FSTABLTSHMENT. 

"Max! — it  is  Max  !"  they  were  saying  outside.  Deep 
silence  reigned  within  and  in  the  market-place,  for  Gilet's 
temper  led  them  to  expect  some  provocation. 

"  May  we  all  meet  here  again  this  day  twelvemonth  !  "  and 
he  bowed  ironically  to  Philippe. 

"  He  is  coming  on  !  "  said  Kouski  to  his  neighbor. 

"  The  Paris  police  did  not  allow  you  to  hold  such  banquets 
as  this,"  said  Major  Potel  to  Philippe. 

"  Why  the  devil  need  you  speak  of  the  police  to  Colonel 
Bridau?"  asked  Maxence  Gilet  insolently. 

"Major  Potel  meant  no  harm  on  his  part,"  said  Philippe, 
with  a  bitter  smile.  The  silence  was  so  complete  that  a  fly 
would  have  been  heard  if  there  had  been  any. 

"  The  police  are  sufficiently  afraid  of  me."  said  Philippe, 
"to  have  sent  me  to  Issoudun,  a  place  where  I  have  had  the 
good-luck  to  find  a  few  of  the  right  old  sort.  But  it  must  be 
confessed  that  there  is  not  much  amusement  to  be  found  here. 
For  a  man  who  is  not  averse  to  the  ladies  I  have  come  off 
but  badly.  However,  I  will  save  my  money  for  the  pretty 
dears — for  I  am  not  one  of  the  men  who  find  their  fortune  in 
a  feather-bed,  and  Mariette  of  the  opera-house  cost  me  no  end 
of  money." 

"Is  it  for  my  benefit  that  you  say  that,  my  dear  colonel," 
said  Max,  firing  a  glance  like  an  electric  shock  at  Philippe. 

"  If  the  cap  fits.  Major  Gilet." 

"Colonel,  my  two  friends  here,  Renard  and  Potel,  will  call 
to-morrow  morning " 

"On  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier,"  interrupted  Philippe, 
waving  his  hand  to  his  two  neighbors. 

"  Now,"  said  Max,  "go  on  with  the  toasts." 

Neither  of  the  antagonists  had  raised  his  voice  above  the 
ordinary  tone  of  conversation  r  nothing  was  solemn  but  the 
silence  in  which  they  were  heard. 

"Look  here,  you  fellows,"  said  Philippe,  looking  at  the 
privates,  "  remember,  our  affairs  arc  no  concern  of  the  town- 


A  BACHELOR'S  F.STABLrSIIMENT.  279 

folks  !  Not  a  word  of  what  has  just  been  said  ;  it  must  re- 
main a  secret  with  tlie  Old  Guard." 

"They  will  obey  orders,  colonel,"  said  Renard  ;  "I  will 
answer  for  them. " 

"Long  live  the  youngster!  May  he  reign  in  France!" 
cried  Potel. 

"Death  to  the  Englishman  !  "  added  Carpentier,  and  this 
toast  was  enthusiastically  drunk. 

"Shame  on  Hudson  Lowe!"  said  Captain  Renard  with 
much  feeling. 

The  dessert  went  off  very  well,  with  ample  libations.  The 
two  antagonists  regarded  it  as  a  point  of  honor  that  this  duel, 
in  which  an  immense  fortune  was  at  stake,  while  the  com- 
batants were  both  men  so  noted  for  their  courage,  should  have 
no  feature  in  common  with  a  vulgar  quarrel.  Two  gentle- 
men, in  the  best  sense,  could  not  have  behaved  better  than 
Max  and  Philippe.  The  expectations  of  the  young  men  and 
townspeople  who  had  gathered  on  the  market-place  were 
disappointed. 

All  the  guests,  as  brother-soldiers,  kept  the  secret  of  the 
episode  at  dessert.  At  ten  o'clock  the  two  principals  were 
informed  that  the  sword  was  the  weapon  decided  on.  The 
spot  selected  for  the  meeting  was  behind  the  apse  of  the  Cap- 
uchin chapel,  at  eight  the  next  morning.  Goddet,  who  had 
been  present  at  the  dinner,  having  formerly  served  as  surgeon- 
major,  had  been  requested  to  attend.  Whatever  came  of  it, 
the  seconds  agreed  that  the  fighting  was  not  to  last  for  more 
than  ten  minutes. 

At  eleven  o'clock  that  night,  to  the  colonel's  great  surprise, 
just  as  he  was  going  to  bed,  Monsieur  Hochon  brought  his  wife 
over  to  see  him. 

"  We  know  what  is  happening,"  said  the  old  lady,  her  eyes 
full  of  tears,  "  and  I  have  come  to  beseech  you  not  to  go  out 
to-morrow  morning  without  saying  your  prayers.  Lift  up  your 
soul  to  God." 


280  A  BACIIRLOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Yes,  madame,"  said  Philippe,  to  whom  old  Hoclion  was 
signaling  from  behind  his  wife. 

"  That  is  not  all,"  said  Agathe's  godmother  ;  "  I  put  myself 
in  your  poor  mother's  place,  and  I  have  deprived  myself  of 
my  most  precious  possession.  Look  here  !  "  and  she  held  out 
to  Philippe  a  tooth  fastened  to  a  piece  of  black  velvet  embroid- 
ered with  gold,  to  which  two  ends  of  green  ribbon  were 
sewn  ;  after  showing  it  to  Philippe,  she  replaced  it  in  the  little 
bag.  "It  is  a  relic  of  Saint  Solange,  the  patron  saint  of  Berry  ; 
1  saved  it  at  the  time  of  the  Revolution  ;  wear  it  on  your 
breast  to-morrow." 

"Can  it  protect  me  against  a  sword-stroke?"  asked 
Philippe. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  old  lady. 

"  Then  I  can  no  more  wear  that  paraphernalia  than  I  could 
wear  a  breastplate,"  cried  Agathe's  son. 

"What  does  he  mean?"  asked  Madame  Hochon  of  her 
husband. 

"  He  says  it  is  not  fair  play,"  replied  old  Hochon. 

"Very  well;  say  no  more  about  it,"  said  she.  "  I  will 
pray  for  you." 

"  Well,  madame,  a  mouthful  of  prayers  and  a  straight  thrust 
can  do  no  harm,"  said  the  colonel,  making  as  though  he  would 
pierce  Monsieur  Hochon  through  the  heart. 

'i'he  old  lady  insisted  on  kissing  Pliilippe  on  the  forehead. 
Tlien,  as  she  went  out,  she  gave  Benjamin  ten  crowns,  all  the 
money  she  had,  to  induce  liim  to  sew  the  relic  into  his  mas- 
ter's trousers-pocket.  Which  Benjamin  did,  not  believing  in 
the  virtue  of  the  bone — for  his  master,  said  he,  had  a  much 
larger  one  to  pick  with  Gilet — but  because  he  was  bound  to 
fulfill  a  commission  so  handsomely  paid  for.  Madame  Hoclion 
went  home  firmly  trusting  in  Saint  Solange. 

At  eight  next  morning,  in  overcast  weather.  Max,  with  his 
two  seconds  and  Kouski,  arrived  on  the  little  plot  of  grass 
which  at  that  time  surrounded  the  apse  of  the  old  Capuchin 


A  BACHELOR'S  FSTABLISHMENT.  281 

church.  There  they  found  Philippe  and  his  party  with  Ben- 
jamin. Potel  and  Mignonnet  measured  twenty-five  paces. 
At  each  end  of  the  line  the  two  men  marked  a  crease  with  a 
spade.  Neither  of  the  combatants  could  retreat  beyond  the 
mark  under  pain  of  cowardice  ;  each  man  was  to  stand  on 
his  line  and  advance  as  far  as  he  pleased,  when  the  seconds 
cried  "Go!" 

"  Shall  we  take  our  coats  off?"  asked  Philippe  coldly  of 
Gilet. 

"  By  all  means,  colonel,"  said  Maxence,  with  the  confi- 
dence of  an  old  hand. 

The  two  men  kept  on  only  their  trousers,  the  flesh  showing 
pink  through  their  cambric  shirts.  Armed  with  cavalry 
swords,  carefully  chosen  of  the  same  weight — about  three 
pounds,  and  the  same  length — three  feet,  the  two  men  took 
their  stand,  their  swords  pointed  downwards,  awaiting  the 
signal.  Both  were  so  calm  that  in  spite  of  the  cold  their 
muscles  quivered  no  more  than  if  they  had  been  of  bronze. 
Goddet,  the  four  seconds,  and  the  two  soldiers  felt  an  invol- 
untary thrill. 

"  They  are  a  fine  couple  !  " 

The  exclamation  broke  from  Major  Potel, 

At  the  moment  when  the  word  "  Go  !  "  was  spoken,  Max- 
ence caught  sight  of  Fario's  ominous  face ;  he  was  looking  at 
them  from  the  hole  made  by  the  knights  of  the  order  to  put 
the  pigeons  through  into  his  store.  Those  eyes,  from  which 
hatred  and  revenge  shot  like  two  showers  of  flame,  dazzled 
Max. 

The  colonel  made  straight  for  his  antagonist,  putting  him- 
self on  guard  in  such  a  way  as  to  secure  the  advantage. 
Experts  in  the  art  of  killing  know  that  the  more  skillful 
of  two  swordsmen  can  take  the  upper  hand,  to  use  an  ex- 
pression that  suggests  by  a  figure  of  speech  the  effect  of 
the  superior  guard.  This  attitude,  which  allows  a  man  in 
some  degree  to  see  what  is  coming,  so  effectually  proclaims 


282  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

a  duelist  of  the  first  class  that  a  sense  of  his  own  inferiority 
sank  deep  into  Max's  soul,  producing  that  flutter  of  mind 
which  is  the  ruin  of  a  gambler  when,  face  to  face  with  a 
master-hand  or  a  man  in  luck,  he  is  disconcerted  and  plays 
worse  than  usual. 

"  Ah,  the  wretch  !  "  said  Max  to  himself.  "  He  is  more 
than  my  match.     I  am  done  for  !  " 

Max  tried  a  circular  flourish,  wielding  his  sword  with  the 
skill  of  a  player  at  single-stick ;  he  wanted  to  dazzle  Philippe's 
eye  and  strike  his  weapon,  so  as  to  disarm  him  ;  but  at  the 
first  touch  he  felt  that  the  colonel  had  a  wrist  of  iron,  as 
flexible  as  a  steel  spring.  Maxence  had  to  find  some  other 
stroke;  and  he,  wretched  man,  wanted  to  think,  while  Phil- 
ippe, whose  eyes  sparkled  more  vividly  than  the  flashing 
steel,  parried  every  attack  as  coolly  as  a  fencing-master  in 
pads  in  a  school  of  arms. 

Between  two  men,  when  both  are  so  skillful  as  these  com- 
batants, the  issue  depends  on  a  circumstance  somewhat  like 
that  which  decides  the  event  of  the  horrible  kicking  matches 
among  the  common  people,  known  as  the  Savate.  The  vic- 
tory depends  on  a  false  move,  on  a  mistake  in  the  distance, 
as  sudden  as  a  lightning  flash,  which  must  be  followed  up 
instantly.  For  a  certain  time,  as  short  to  the  spectators  as  it 
seems  long  to  the  adversaries,  the  fight  consists  in  watchful- 
ness, absorbing  every  power  of  mind  and  body,  but  hidden 
under  feints  apparently  so  slow  and  so  cautious  that  it  might 
be  supposed  that  neither  of  the  men  meant  business.  This 
instant,  followed  by  a  swift  and  decisive  struggle,  is  agonizing 
to  the  skilled  beholder.  Max  presently  parried  badly  and 
the  colonel  struck  the  sword  out  of  his  hand. 

"  Pick  it  up  !  "  he  said,  pausing  in  the  fight.  "  I  am  not 
the  man  to  kill  a  disarmed  foe." 

It  was  the  sublime  of  ruthlessness.  This  generosity  showed 
such  certain  superiority  that  it  was  regarded  as  the  cleverest 
design  by  the  lookers-on.     In  fact,  when   Max  took  up  his 


UPf     1-it.     ^AID,    PAUSING     !'^ 


TUr     FIGHT. 


A  BACHF.T.OR'S  F.STABLrSFIMENT.  2Sr? 

guard  again  he  had  lost  liis  presence  of  mind,  and  again,  of 
course,  found  himself  below  the  high  guard  wliich  threat- 
ened him  while  covering  his  adversary.  Then  he  hoped  to 
retrieve  his  shameful  defeat  by  a  daring  blow  ;  he  no  longer 
tried  to  guard  himself;  he  took  his  sword  in  both  hands  and 
rushed  furiously  upon  the  colonel,  to  wound  him  mortally, 
while  allowing  himself  to  be  killed.  Though  Philippe  re- 
ceived a  sword-stroke  which  cut  liis  forehead  and  part  of  his 
face,  he  split  Max's  skull  obliquely  by  a  terrible  swashing  cut, 
intended  to  break  the  murderous  blow  Max  meant  to  deal 
him.  These  two  frantic  cuts  ended  the  fight  in  nine  minutes. 
Fario  came  down  to  feast  his  eyes  on  the  sight  of  his  enemy's 
death-struggle,  for  in  a  man  so  powerful  as  Max  the  muscles 
twitch  frightfully.     Philippe  was  carried  to  his  uncle's  house. 

Thus  died  one  of  those  men  destined  to  achieve  great 
things  if  he  had  but  remained  in  the  position  to  which  he 
was  fitted ;  a  man  who  was  a  spoilt  child  of  nature,  endowed 
with  courage,  cool-blood,  and  the  political  astuteness  of  a 
Csesar  Borgia.  But  education  had  not  given  him  that  lofti- 
ness of  mind  and  conduct  without  which  no  achievement  is 
possible  in  any  walk  of  life.  He  was  not  regretted,  for  the 
insidious  action  of  his  adversary — a  more  worthless  creature 
than  himself — had  succeeded  in  lowering  him  in  public  re- 
gard. His  death  put  an  end  to  the  exploits  of  the  Knights 
of  Idlesse,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  the  town  of  Issoudun. 
Philippe  got  into  no  trouble  in  consequence  of  this  duel, 
which  indeed  appeared  to  be  the  outcome  of  divine  venge- 
ance, and  of  which  the  details  were  discussed  through  all  the 
neighborhood  with  unanimous  praise  of  the  two  antagonists. 

"They  ought  to  have  killed  each  other,"  said  Monsieur 
Mouilleron.  "That  would  have  been  a  good  riddance  for 
the  government." 

Flore  Brazier's  position  would  have  been  a  very  embarrass- 
ing one  but  for  the  severe  illness  produced  by  Max's  death  : 
she  had  an  attack  on  the  brain,  complicated  by  dangerous 


284  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

inflammation,  brought  on  by  the  fatigues  and  shocks  of  the 
last  three  days.  If  she  had  been  in  her  usual  health,  she 
might  perhaps  have  fled  from  the  house  where,  just  beneath 
her,  in  Max's  room  and  Max's  bed,  lay  Max's  murderer,  f'or 
three  months  she  hovered  between  life  and  death  under  the 
treatment  of  Monsieur  Goddet,  who  also  attended  Philippe. 

As  soon  as  Philippe  could  hold  a  pen  he  wrote  the  follow- 
ing letters  : 

"To  Monsieur  Desroclies,  Attorney-at-Law  : 

"  I  have  already  killed  the  more  venomous  of  the  two 
beasts,  not  without  getting  a  hole  in  my  head  from  a  sword- 
cut,  but  the  rascal  happily  struck  with  a  dead  hand.  There 
remains  anotlier  viper  with  whom  I  must  try  to  come  to  some 
understanding,  for  to  my  uncle  she  is  as  his  very  gizzard.  I 
was  much  afraid  lest  this  Rabouilleusc,  who  is  devilish  hand- 
some, should  take  herself  off.  for  my  uncle  would  have  gone 
after  her  ;  but  the  shock  which  came  upon  her  at  an  evil 
moment  has  nailed  her  to  her  bed.  If  God  were  gracious  to 
me,  He  would  take  her  to  Himself  while  she  repents  of  her 
sins.  Meanwhile,  thanks  to  Monsieur  Hochon — the  old  man 
is  well — I  have  the  doctor  on  my  side,  named  Goddet,  a  good 
a])ost]e,  who  opines  that  an  uncle's  inlieritance  is  better  placed 
in  his  nephew's  hands  than  in  those  of  such  a  minx.  Mon- 
sieur Hochon  exerts  some  influence  over  one  Fichet.  who  has 
a  rich  daughter,  on  whom  Goddet  has  an  eye  as  a  wife  for  his 
son  ;  so  that  the  thousand-franc  note  that  has  been  dangled 
before  him  for  curing  my  nut  has  little  to  do  with  his  devo- 
tion. This  Goddet,  formerly  surgeon-major  in  the  Third 
Line  Regiment,  has  also  been  '  talked  to  '  by  my  friends,  two 
brave  ofiicers,  Mignonnet  and  Carpentier,  so  that  he  is  hum- 
bugging his  other  patient. 

"  *  There  is  a  God  after  all,  you  see,  my  dear,'  says  he, 
feeling  her  pulse.  '  You  have  caused  a  great  misfortune  ; 
you   must   repair   the  mischief.     The  lianrl   of  God   is  in  all 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  285 

this.  (What  the  hand  of  God  is  made  to  do  is  incredible  !) 
Religion  is  religion  ;  submit,  be  resigned  ;  to  begin  with,  it 
will  calm  your  mind,  and  do  as  much  to  cure  you  aS'  my 
drugs.  Above  all,  remain  here  to  take  care  of  your  master. 
And  then,  forgive  !      Forgiveness  is  the  law  of  the  Christian.' 

"  This  Goddet  has  promised  that  he  will  keep  La  Rabou- 
illeuse  in  bed  for  three  months.  Perhaps  the  woman  will 
insensibly  become  accustomed  to  our  living  under  the  same 
roof.  I  have  secured  the  cook  on  my  side.  The  abominable 
old  thing  tells  her  mistress  that  Max  would  have  made  life 
very  hard  for  her.  She  declares  that  she  heard  the  dead  man 
say  that  if  after  the  old  man's  death  he  should  be  obliged  to 
marry  Flore,  he  did  not  mean  to  clog  his  career  with  a  hussy. 
And  the  cook  even  insinuated  that  Max  would  have  found 
means  to  get  rid  of  her. 

"  So  all  is  well.  My  uncle,  by  old  Hochon's  advice,  has 
destroyed  his  will." 

"  To  Monsieur  Giroudeau,  at  Mademoiselle  Florentine's,  Rue 
de  Vendome  au  Marais  : 

"My  old  Comrade: — Find  out  whether  that  little  puss 
Cesarine  is  engaged,  and  try  to  persuade  her  to  be  in  readi- 
ness to  come  to  Issoudun  as  soon  as  I  ask  her.  The  little 
minx  must  then  start  by  return  of  post.  She  must  get  herself 
up  respectably,  and  shed  everything  that  smacks  of  the  side- 
scenes  ;  she  would  have  to  figure  in  the  country  as  the 
daughter  of  a  brave  soldier  killed  on  the  field  of  honor.  So 
the  primmest   behavior,  a   school-girl   fit-out,  and    first-class 

virtue these   are   the  order  of  the   day.      If   I  should   need 

her,  and  if  she  is  a  success,  at  my  uncle's  death  she  shall  have 
fifty  thousand  francs.  If  she  is  busy,  explain  the  case  to 
Florentine,  and  find  me,  between  you,  some  little  walking 
lady  who  can  play  the  part, 

"■  I  had  my  scalp  peeled  in  the  duel  with  my  fortune-grabber, 
and  it  has  given  my  eye  a  twist.     I  will  tell  you  all  about  it. 


286  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Ah  !  old  man,  we  will  see  good  times  yet,  and  have  plenty  of 
fun  with  others — not  the  same  others.  If  you  can  forward 
me  five  hundred  flimsies,  I  can  find  use  for  them.  Ta-ta,  old 
cock.  Light  your  pipe  with  this  document.  It  must  be 
understood  that  the  officer's  daughter  hails  from  Chateauroux 
and  professes  to  be  in  need  of  help.  However,  I  hope  not  to 
be  obliged  to  have  recourse  to  this  dangerous  game.  Remem- 
ber me  to  Mariette  and  all  our  friends." 

Agathe,  on  hearing  from  Madame  Hochon,  hastened  to 
Issoudun,  and  was  received  by  her  brother,  who  gave  her 
Philippe's  old  room.  The  poor  mother,  whose  heart  was  soft 
again  towards  her  villainous  son,  enjoyed  a  few  happy  days 
while  hearing  the  citizens  of  Issoudun  sing  the  colonel's 
praises. 

"After  all,  dear  child,"  said  Madame  Hochon  on  the  day 
of  Agathe's  arrival,  "youth  must  have  its  day.  The  follies 
of  soldiers  who  served  the  Emperor  cannot  be  the  same  as 
those  of  sons  looked  after  by  respectable  fathers.  If  only  you 
could  know  all  the  tricks  that  wretch  Max  would  play  here 
by  night !  Now,  thanks  to  your  son,  Issoudun  breathes  and 
sleeps  in  peace.  Judgment  came  late  to  Philippe,  but  it  came  ; 
as  he  told  us,  three  months'  imprisonment  in  the  Luxembourg 
leaves  a  little  ballast  in  the  brain  ;  in  short,  his  conduct  here 
has  delighted  Monsieur  Hochon,  and  he  has  won  general  re- 
spect. If  your  son  can  but  remain  a  little  while  out  of  the 
way  of  the  temptations  of  Paris,  he  will  end  by  giving  you 
every  satisfaction." 

Agathe,  as  she  heard  these  comforting  words,  looked  at 
her  godmother  with  eyes  full  of  happy  tears. 

Philippe  played  the  good  boy  to  his  motlier  ;  he  wanted  to 
make  use  of  her.  This  astute  diplomatist  did  not  want  to 
have  recourse  to  Ccsarine  unless  he  found  himself  the  object 
of  Flore's  aversion.  He  understood  that  Flore  was  an  admir- 
able tool,  moulded    bv  Mnxcnrc,   and   to  his    uncle  a  habit 


A  BACHELOR'S   ESTABLISHMENT.  287 

of  life  ;  he  meant  to  make  use  of  her  rather  than  of  a  Paris- 
ian, who  might  have  made  the  old  man  marry  her.  Just 
as  Fouche  advised  Louis  XVIII.  to  lie  between  Napoleon's 
sheets  rather  than  to  grant  the  Charter,  Philippe  would  have 
liked  to  lie  quietly  between  Gilet's  sheets.  Still,  he  did  not 
wish  to  cast  a  slur  on  the  reputation  he  had  just  made  in 
the  province.  Now,  to  carry  on  Max's  relations  with  La 
Rabouilleuse  would  be  as  odious  on  his  part  as  on  the 
woman's.  He  might,  without  discredit,  live  under  his  uncle's 
roof  and  at  his  uncle's  expense,  in  consideration  of  his  rela- 
tionship ;  but  he  could  have  nothing  to  say  to  Flore  unless 
she  were  rehabilitated.  In  the  meshes  of  these  difficulties, 
the  admirable  plan  occurred  to  him  of  making  La  Rabou- 
illeuse his  aunt.  So,  with  this  scheme  unrevealed,  he  begged 
his  mother  to  go  to  see  the  woman  and  show  her  some 
affection,  treating  her  as  a  sister-in-law. 

"  I  confess,  my  dear  mother,"  said  he,  with  a  sanctimonious 
air,  and  looking  at  Monsieur  and  Madame  Hochon,  who  had 
come  to  sit  with  their  dear  Agathe,  ''  that  my  uncle's  way  of 
life  is  unseemly;  he  has  only  to  legalize  matters  to  win  the 
respect  of  the  town  for  Mademoiselle  Brazier.  Would  it  not 
be  better  for  her  to  be  Madame  Rouget  than  the  housekeeper- 
mistress  of  an  old  bachelor?  Is  it  not  a  simpler  matter  to 
acquire  legal  rights  by  marriage  than  to  try  to  oust  a  family  of 
legitimate  heirs?  If  you,  Monsieur  Hochon,  or  some  worthy 
priest,  would  speak  of  this  affair,  it  would  put  an  end  to  a 
scandal  that  offends  respectable  people.  Then  Mademoiselle 
Brazier  would  be  made  happy  by  finding  herself  welcomed  by 
you  as  a  sister  and  by  me  as  an  aunt." 

Next  day  Madame  Hochon  and  Agathe  stood  by  Made- 
moiselle Flore  Brazier's  bedside,  where  they  set  forth  to  the 
invalid  and  to  Rouget  all  Philippe's  admirable  sentiments. 
The  colonel  was  lauded  throughout  the  town  as  a  man  of 
lofty  and  excellent  character,  especially  in  his  conduct  with 
regard  to  Flore.     For  a  whole  month  the  advantages  to  be 


283  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

derived  from  her  marriage  with  old  Rouget  were  impressed  on 
Flore  by  Pere  Goddet,  her  doctor — a  powerful  influence  over 
the  mind  of  a  patient — by  good  Madame  Hochon  speaking 
in  behalf  of  religion,  and  by  the  gentle  and  pious  Agathe. 

Then  when,  fascinated  by  the  idea  of  being  Madame 
Rouget  and  a  respectable  and  respected  citizen's  wife,  she 
was  only  eager  to  be  well  and  celebrate  the  wedding,  it  was 
not  difficult  to  make  her  understand  that  she  could  not  be- 
come one  of  the  old  family  of  Rouget  by  turning  Philippe 
out  of  doors. 

"And,  after  all/'  said  old  Goddet,  ''  is  it  not  to  him  that 
you  owe  this  high  preferment?  Max  would  never  have 
allowed  you  to  marry  Pere  Rouget.  And  then,"  he  whis- 
pered in  her  ear,  "  if  you  have  children,  will  not  Max  be 
avenged?     The  Bridaus  will  get  nothing." 

Two  months  after  the  fatal  event,  in  February.  1823,  the 
invalid,  by  the  advice  of  ail  about  her,  and  implored  by 
Rouget,  received  Philippe,  whose  scar  made  her  weep,  but 
whose  manner  to  her,  softened  almost  to  affection,  soothed 
her  greatly.  By  Philippe's  desire  he  was  left  alone  with  his 
future  aunt. 

"My  dear  girl,"  said  the  soldier,  "  I,  from  the  first,  have 
advised  that  you  should  marry  my  uncle;  and  if  you  consent, 
it  can  be  done  as  soon  as  you  are  recovered " 

"  So  I  am  told,"  said  she. 

"It  is  only  natural  that  as  circumstances  compelled  me  to 
do  you  an  injury,  I  want  to  do  you  as  much  good  as  possible. 
A  fortune,  a  position,  and  a  family  are  worth  more  than  you 
have  lost.  At  my  uncle's  death  yon  would  not  long  have 
been  that  fellow's  wife,  for  I  have  heard  from  his  friends 
that  he  had  no  happy  lot  in  store  for  yon  !  Look  here,  my 
dear  child,  let  us  understand  each  other.  Wc  will  all  live 
happily.     You  are  to  be  my  aunt — nothing  but  my  aunt. 

"You  must  take  rare  that  my  uncle  does  not  forget  me  in 
his  will  ;   on   my  part,  you  shall  sec  how  I  will  have  you  pro- 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  289 

vided  for  in  the  settlements.  Keep  calm,  think  it  over ;  we 
will  speak  of  it  again.  As  you  see,  the  most  sensible  people, 
all  the  town,  advise  you  to  abandon  an  illegal  position  ;  and 
nobody  objects  to  your  seeing  me.  Every  one  understands 
that  in  life  sentiment  must  give  way  to  interest.  You  will  be 
handsomer  than  ever  on  your  marriage-day.  Your  illness,  by 
leaving  you  pale,  has  given  you  a  most  distinguished  air. 
If  my  uncle  were  not  so  desperately  in  love  with  you,  on  my 
honor,"  said  he,  rising  and  kissing  her  hand,  "  you  would  be 
the  wife  of  Colonel  Bridau." 

Philippe  went  away,  leaving  this  last  speech  in  Flore's  mind 
to  arouse  a  vague  idea  of  revenge,  which  smiled  on  the  woman, 
who  was  almost  happy  at  having  seen  this  terrible  personage 
at  her  feet.  Philippe  had  just  played,  in  little,  the  scene 
that  Richard  III.  plays  with  the  queen  he  has  lately  made  a 
widow.  The  upshot  of  the  scene  shows  that  interest  wrapped 
up  in  feeling  strikes  very  deeply  into  the  heart  and  dispels 
the  most  genuine  grief.  This  is  how,  in  private  life,  nature 
allows  herself  to  accomplish  what  in  works  of  genius  is  a 
master-stroke  of  art ;  interest  is  the  means  by  which  she  works, 
the  genius  of  money. 

Thus,  in  the  beginning  of  April,  1823,  Jean-Jacques  Rou- 
get's  room  presented  the  spectacle  of  a  magnificent  dinner  in 
honor  of  the  signing  of  a  marriage-contract  between  Made- 
moiselle Flore  Brazier  and  the  old  bachelor.  No  one  was  at 
all  surprised.  The  guests  were  Monsieur  Heron  ;  the  four 
witnesses — Messieurs  Mignonnet,  Carpentier,  Hochon,  and 
the  elder  Goddet ;  the  mayor  and  the  parish  priest ;  Agathe 
Bridau,  Madame  Hochon,  and  her  friend  Madame  Borniche; 
•that  is  to  say,  the  two  old  women  who  were  authoritative  in 
Issoudun.  And  the  bride  was  keenly  alive  to  this  concession, 
won  for  her  by  Philippe,  the  ladies  regarding  it  as  a  mark  of 
protection  needed  by  a  penitent  damsel.  Flore  was  dazzlingly 
beautiful.  The  curd,  who  had  for  a  fortnight  been  catechising 
19 


2^0  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

the  ignorant  Rabouilleuse,  was  to  give  her  the  next  morning 
her  first  communion. 

This  wedding  was  the  subject  of  the  following  article,  pub- 
lished in  the  Journal  du  Cher  at  Bourges  and  the  Journal  de 
rindre  at  Chateauroux : 

"  ISSOUDUN. 

''The  religious  movement  is  making  progress  in  Berry.  All 
the  friends  of  the  church  and  respectable  people  in  this  town 
collected  yesterday  to  witness  a  ceremony,  by  which  one  of 
the  chief  landowners  in  this  part  of  the  country  put  an  end 
to  a  scandalous  state  of  affairs  dating  from  a  time  when  reli- 
gion was  a  dead  letter  in  these  parts.  This  issue,  due  to  the 
enlightened  zeal  of  the  ecclesiastics  of  this  town,  will,  we 
hope,  find  imitators,  and  put  an  end  to  these  discreditable  un- 
sanctified  unions,  begun  at  the  most  disastrous  period  of  the 
revolutionary  misrule. 

"One  thing  is  noteworthy  in  the  case  of  which  we  write: 
it  was  brought  about  by  the  urgency  of  a  colonel  of  the 
imperial  army,  quartered  in  our  town  by  a  sentence  of  the 
supreme  court,  who,  by  this  marriage,  may  forfeit  his  uncle's 
fortune.  Such  disinterestedness  is  rare  enough  in  our  day  to 
deserve  to  be  made  public." 

Under  the  contract  Rouget  settled  on  Flore  the  sum  of  a 
hundred  thousand  francs,  and  an  annuity  in  case  of  widow- 
hood of  thirty  thousand  francs.  After  the  wedding,  which 
was  splendid,  Agathe  went  back  to  Paris,  the  happiest  of 
mothers,  and  there  gave  to  Joseph  and  Desroches  what  she 
called  the  good  news. 

"Your  son  is  much  too  deep  not  to  lay  hands  on  her  in- 
heritance," replied  the  attorney,  when  he  had  heard  Madame 
Bridau  out.  "  And  you  and  your  poor  Joseph  will  never  have 
a  sou  of  your  brother's  fortune." 

"You  will  always  be  the  same — you  and  Joseph — always 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  291 

unjust  to  that  poor  boy,"  said  his  mother.  *'  His  conduct 
before  the  court  was  that  of  a  great  politician.  He  succeeded 
in  saving  a  great  many  heads  !  Philippe's  errors  are  the  out- 
come of  want  of  occupation  ;  his  great  powers  lie  idle  ;  but 
he  has  learned  how  injurious  faults  of  conduct  must  be  to  a 
man  who  wants  to  rise  in  the  world,  and  he  has  ambition,  I 
am  sure ;  nor  am  I  the  only  person  who  believes  in  his  future. 
Monsieur  Hochon  is  firmly  convinced  that  Philippe  has  a  high 
destiny." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Desroches,  "  if  he  chooses  to  apply  his 
utterly  perverse  intelligence  to  making  a  fortune  he  will  suc- 
ceed, for  he  is  capable  of  anything,  and  men  of  that  stamp 
get  on  fast." 

"  And  why  should  he  not  succeed  by  honest  means?  "  said 
Madame  Bridau. 

"  You  will  see,"  answered  Desroches.  "  Lucky  or  unlucky, 
Philippe  will  always  be  the  man  of  the  Rue  Mazarine,  the 
murderer  of  Madame  Descoings,  the  household  thief.  But  do 
not  be  alarmed ;  he  will  seem  perfectly  honest  in  the  eyes  of 
the  world." 

On  the  day  after  the  marriage  Philippe  took  Madame 
Rouget  by  the  arm,  when  his  uncle  had  gone  upstairs  to 
dress,  for  the  couple  had  come  down  to  breakfast,  Flore  in  a 
wrapper  and  the  old  man  in  his  dressing-gown. 

"  Aunt-in-law,"  said  he,  leading  her  into  a  window  recess, 
"  you  are  now  a  member  of  the  family.  Thanks  to  me,  the 
lawyers  have  taken  care  of  you.  Now  come  !  no  nonsense. 
I  mean  to  play  the  game  with  the  cards  on  the  table.  I  know 
all  the  tricks  you  could  play  me,  and  I  shall  keep  a  sharper 
eye  on  you  than  could  any  duenna.  As  to  what  goes  on  in  the 
house,  I  shall  sit  there,  by  heaven  !  like  a  spider  in  the  mid- 
dle of  its  web.  Now,  this  will  show  you  that  while  you  were 
in  bed,  unable  to  move  hand  or  foot,  I  could  have  had  you 
turned  out  of  doors  without  a  sou.      Read  this." 

And  he  held  out  to  Flore  the  following  letter : 


292  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"  My  dear  Boy: — Florentine,  who  has  at  last  come  out  at 
the  opera,  in  the  new  house,  in  a  pas  de  trois  with  Marietta 
and  Tullia,  has  never  forgotten  you,  any  more  than  Florine, 
who  has  finally  thrown  over  Lousteau  and  taken  up  with 
Nathan.  These  two  sly-boots  have  found  you  the  sweetest 
creature  in  the  world,  a  child  of  seventeen,  as  pretty  as  an 
English  girl,  as  prim  as  a  lady  at  her  tricks,  as  cunning  as 
Desroches,  as  trustworthy  as  Godeschal ;  and  Mariette  has 
rigged  her  out,  and  wishes  you  good-luck.  There  is  no  woman 
living  who  could  hold  her  own  against  this  angel,  concealing 
a  demon  ;  she  will  be  able  to  play  any  part,  to  get  round 
your  uncle,  and  make  him  crazy  with  love.  She  has  the 
heavenly  expression  that  poor  Coralie  had  ;  she  can  cry,  she 
has  a  voice  that  would  extract  a  thousand-franc  note  from  a 
heart  of  the  hardest  granite,  and  the  hussy  swigs  down  cham- 
pagne with  the  best  of  us.  She  is  a  jewel  of  a  girl ;  she  is 
under  obligations  to  Mariette,  and  is  anxious  to  make  some 
return.  After  gulping  down  the  fortunes  of  two  Englishmen, 
one  Russian,  and  a  Roman  prince,  Mademoiselle  Esther  is 
just  now  in  very  low  water.  If  you  give  her  ten  thousand 
francs,  she  will  be  content.  She  said  just  now,  '  Well,  I 
have  never  had  a  citizen  to  wheedle ;  it  will  be  practice  for 
me  !  '  Finot  knows  her  well,  Bixiou,  des  Lupeaulx,  all  our 
set,  in  fact.  If  there  were  any  fortunes  left  in  France,  she 
would  be  the  most  famous  courtesan  of  modern  times. 

"  My  style  smacks  of  Nathan,  Bixiou,  and  Finot,  who  are 
playing  the  fool  with  the  above-named  Esther,  in  the  most 
splendid  rooms  you  can  imagine,  which  have  just  been  ar- 
ranged d  la  Florine  by  old  I>ord  Dudley,  Marsay's  real  father, 
whom  the  clever  little  actress  has  quite  bowled  over,  thanks 
to  the  costume  of  her  new  part.  Tullia  is  still  with  the  Due 
de  Rhetore,  Mariette  with  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  so  they 
between  them  can  get  you  a  ticket-of-leave  on  the  King's  fSte- 
day.  Try  to  have  your  uncle  safe  under  the  daisies  by  next 
Saint-Louis'    Day,   come  back  with   the   fortune,  and  spend 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMEiXT.  293 

some  of  it  with  Estiier  and  your  old  friends,  who  sign  in  a 
body  to  remind  you  of  their  existence. 

"  Nathan,  Florine,  Bixiou,  Finot,  Mariette, 
"Florentine,  Giroudeau,  Tullia." 

This  letter  quivered  in  Madame  Rouget's  hands  in  a  way 
that  betrayed  her  agitation  of  mind  and  body.  The  aunt 
dared  not  look  at  the  nephew,  who  fixed  on  her  a  pair  of  eyes 
full  of  terrible  expression. 

"  I  have  full  confidence  in  you,"  said  he.  "  You  see  that 
I  have  ;  but  I  must  have  something  in  return.  I  made  you  my 
aunt  in  order  to  marry  you  some  day.  You  are  worth  quite 
as  much  as  Esther  to  my  uncle.  A  year  hence  we  must  go  to 
Paris,  the  only  place  where  beauty  can  live.  You  will  enjoy 
yourself  rather  more  than  you  do  here,  for  it  is  a  perpetual 
carnival.  I  shall  rejoin  the  army  and  be  made  a  general,  and 
you  will  be  a  great  lady.  That  is  your  future ;  work  it  out. 
But  I  must  have  a  pledge  of  our  alliance.  Within  one  month 
you  must  procure  for  me  my  uncle's  power  of  attorney  under 
the  pretext  of  relieving  you  and  him  alike  of  the  cares  of 
money.  One  month  after  I  must  have  a  special  power  to 
transfer  his  stock.  When  once  the  securities  are  in  my  name, 
we  shall  have  an  equal  interest  in  marrying  each  other  some 
day.  All  that,  my  fair  aunt,  is  plain  and  precise.  There 
must  be  no  ambiguity  between  you  and  I.  I  may  marry  my 
aunt-in-law  after  a  year's  widowhood,  whereas  I  could  not 
marry  a  disreputable  nobody." 

He  left  the  room  without  awaiting  her  answer.  When,  an 
hour  later,  Vedie  came  in  to  clear  away  the  breakfast,  she 
found  her  mistress  pale  and  in  a  perspiration  in  spite  of  the 
cool  season.  Flore  was  feeling  like  a  woman  who  has  fallen 
to  the  bottom  of  a  precipice  ;  she  saw  nothing  before  her  but 
blackness,  and  on  that  blackness,  as  in  some  dark  beyond, 
flitted  monstrous  things,  indistinctly  seen,  and  filling  her  with 
terror.     She  felt  the  damp  chill  of  these  caverns.     She  was 


294  ^   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

instinctively  afraid  of  this  man,  yet  nevertheless  a  voice  cried 
to  her  that  she  deserved  to  have  him  for  her  master.  She 
could  not  struggle  against  fate ;  Flore  Brazier,  for  decency's 
sake,  had  rooms  in  Pere  Rouget's  house,  but  Madame  Rouget 
belonged  to  her  husband,  and  so  was  bereft  of  the  inestimable 
independence  that  a  housekeeper-mistress  preserves. 

In  this  dreadful  position  she  hoped  she  might  have  a  child; 
but  in  the  last  five  years  Jean-Jacques  had  become  absolutely 
decrepit.  This  marriage  was  to  the  poor  old  man  what 
Louis  XII. 's  second  marriage  was  to  him.  Again,  the  con- 
stant watchfulness  of  such  a  man  as  Philippe,  who  had  nothing 
to  do,  for  he  gave  up  his  employment,  made  any  kind  of  ven- 
geance impossible.  Benjamin  was  an  innocent  but  devoted 
spy.  La  Vedie  quaked  in  Philippe's  presence.  Flore  was  alone 
and  helpless.  To  crown  all,  she  was  afraid  of  death  ;  without 
knowing  how  Philippe  could  make  away  with  her,  she  guessed 
that  the  suspicion  of  a  coming  heir  would  be  her  death- 
warrant  ;  the  sound  of  that  voice,  the  covert  flash  of  that 
gambler's  eye,  the  soldier's  slightest  movement — treating  her 
as  he  did  with  the  politest  brutality — made  her  shudder.  As 
to  the  power  of  attorney  demanded  by  the  ferocious  colonel, 
who  was  a  hero  in  the  eyes  of  Issoudun,  he  had  it  as  soon  as 
he  asked  for  it ;  for  Flore  fell  under  his  dominion  as  France 
had  fallen  under  that  of  Napoleon. 

Rouget  meanwhile,  like  a  moth  whose  feet  are  caught  in  the 
burning  wax  of  a  taper,  was  fast  wasting  his  remaining 
strength  ;  and  his  nephew,  looking  on  at  this  lingering  death, 
was  as  unmoved  as  the  diplomatists  who,  in  1814,  watched 
the  convulsions  of  imperial  France. 

Philippe,  who  had  no  belief  in  Napoleon  II.,  then  wrote 
the  following  letter  to  the  war  minister,  and  Mariette  got  it 
delivered  by  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse : 

"MoNSEiGNF.UR  : — Napoleon  no  longer  lives.  I  remained 
faithful  to  him  after  taking  the  oath  ;  but  now  I  am  at  liberty 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  295 

to  offer  my  services  to  his  majesty.  If  your  excellency  would 
condescend  to  explain  my  conduct  to  his  majesty,  liie  King 
will  understand  that  it  has  conformed  to  the  laws  of  honor, 
if  not  to  those  of  the  realm.  The  King,  who  thought  it  but 
natural  that  his  aide-de-camp,  General  Rapp,  should  mourn 
for  his  former  master,  will  no  doubt  be  equally  indulgent  to 
me.     Napoleon  was  my  benefactor. 

"  I  therefore  entreat  your  excellency  to  take  into  considera- 
tion my  request  for  employment  with  my  full  rank,  assuring 
you  of  my  entire  submission.  This  will  show  you,  monseig- 
neur,  that  the  King  will  find  me  the  most  faithful  of  his  sub- 
jects. 

"Accept,  I  beg,  the  expression  of  respect  with  which  I 
have  the  honor  to  remain 

"Your  excellency's 

"  Most  obedient  and  most  humble  servant, 
"  Philippe  Bridau. 

"  Formerly  Major  of  Brigade  in  the  Dragoon  Guards;  Officer 
of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  under  surveillance  of  the  State 
Police  at  Issoudun." 

With  this  letter  was  a  request  for  permission  to  visit  Paris 
on  urgent  private  affairs,  supported  by  Mouilleron,  who 
annexed  letters  from  the  mayor,  the  sous-prefet,  and  the  super- 
intendent of  police  at  Issoudun,  who  all  spoke  in  praise  of 
Philippe,  and  dwelt  on  the  article  written  on  the  occasion  of 
his  uncle's  marriage. 

A  fortnight  later,  at  the  time  when  the  picture  exhibition 
was  opened,  Philippe  received  the  permit  he  had  asked  for, 
and  a  letter,  in  which  the  war  minister  informed  him  that,  by 
the  King's  orders,  he  was,  as  a  first  favor,  reinstated  on  the 
army  list  as  lieutenant-colonel. 

Philippe  moved  to  Paris  with  his  aunt  and  old  Rouget, 
whom  he  carried  off  to  the  Treasury  three  days  after  their 


296  ^    nACHKLOR'S  ESTABLI^UMENT. 

arrival  to  sign  the  transfer  of  the  state  bond,  which  thus  be- 
came his  own  property.  The  feeble  old  man  and  La  Rabouil- 
leuse  were  flung  by  their  nephew  into  frantic  dissipation  and 
the  dangerous  company  of  indefatigable  actresses,  journalists, 
artists,  and  women  of  equivocal  character,  among  whom 
Philippe  had  spent  his  youth,  and  where  old  Rouget  found 
rabouilleuses  enough  to  be  the  death  of  him.  Giroudeau 
undertook  that  Pere  Rouget  should  die  the  happy  death  made 
famous  since,  it  is  said,  by  a  marshal  of  France.  Lolotte, 
one  of  the  handsomest  "walking  ladies"  at  the  opera,  wag 
Rouget's  bewitching  assassin.  The  old  man  died  after  a 
splendid  supper  given  by  Florentine  ;  and  whether  the  supper 
or  Mademoiselle  Lolotte  finished  off  the  old  provincial,  it  is 
difficult  to  decide.  Lolotte  ascribed  his  death  to  a  slice  of 
pate  de  foie  gras ;  and  as  the  Strasbourg  pie  could  make  no  re- 
joinder, it  is  taken  as  proved  that  the  old  man  died  of 
indigestion. 

Madame  Rouget  found  herself  in  her  element  in  this  exces- 
sively free-and-easy  society  ;  but  Philippe  gave  her  Marietta 
for  a  chaperon,  and  she  did  not  allow  the  widow  to  play  the 
fool,  though  her  mourning  was  lightened  by  some  flirtations. 

In  October,  1823,  Philippe,  armed  with  a  power  of  attor- 
ney from  his  aunt,  returned  to  Issoudun  to  wind  up  his  uncle's 
estate,  a  business  quickly  accomplished,  for  in  March,  1824, 
he  was  in  Paris  with  sixteen  hundred  thousand  francs,  the  net 
value  in  hard  cash  of  his  deceased  uncle's  estate,  not  inclusive 
of  the  valuable  pictures,  which  had  never  been  moved  from 
old  Hochon's  keeping.  Philippe  banked  his  money  with 
Mongenod  &  Son,  the  house  in  which  young  Baruch  Borniche 
had  found  a  berth,  and  of  whose  solvency  and  honesty  old 
Hochon  had  given  a  satisfactory  report.  This  firm  took  the 
sixteen  hundred  thousand  francs  at  six  per  cent,  per  annum, 
on  condition  of  three  months'  notice  being  given  previous  to 
withdrawal  of  the  capital. 

One  fine  day  Philippe  went  to  request  his  mother's  presence 


y 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  297 

at  his  marriage,  the  witnesses  being  Giroudeau,  Finot,  Nathan, 
and  Bixiou.  By  the  marriage  contract  Madame  Rouget, 
widow,  settled  all  her  possessions  on  her  husband  in  the  event 
of  her  dying  childless.  There  were  no  letters  of  formal  an- 
nouncement, no  party,  no  display,  for  Philippe  had  his  own 
schemes  ;  he  took  rooms  for  his  wife  in  the  Rue  Saint-Georges, 
an  apartment  sold  ready  furnished  by  Lolotte,  which  Madame 
Bridau  the  younger  thought  delightful,  but  where  her  husband 
rarely  set  foot. 

Without  letting  anybody  know  what  he  was  doing,  Philippe 
purchased  for  two  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  francs  a  house 
in  the  Rue  de  Clichy,  at  the  time  when  no  one  suspected  the 
value  which  the  property  in  that  part  of  the  town  would  attain 
— a  magnificent  mansion,  for  which  he  paid  fifty  thousand 
crowns  down,  the  rest  to  be  paid  off  in  two  years.  He  spent 
enormous  sums  on  the  interior  and  in  furnishing  it,  devoting 
to  this  his  whole  income  for  two  years.  The  splendid  pic- 
tures, cleaned  and  restored,  and  valued  at  three  hundred 
thousand  francs,  were  displayed  to  full  advantage. 

The  accession  of  Charles  X.  had  raised  to  greater  favor  than 
ever  the  Due  de  Chaulieu's  family;  and  his  eldest  son,  the 
Due  de  Rhetore,  often  met  Philippe  at  Tullia's.  In  the  per- 
son of  Charles  X.  the  elder  branch  of  the  Bourbons  supposed 
itself  to  be  definitely  seated  on  the  throne,  and  it  followed 
the  advice  given  at  an  earlier  time  by  Marshal  Gouvion  Saint- 
Cyr  to  secure  the  attachment  of  the  soldiers  of  the  Empire. 
Philippe,  who,  no  doubt,  gave  valuable  information  as  to  the 
conspiracies  of  1820  and  1822,  was  appointed  lieutenant- 
colonel  in  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse's  regiment.  This  de- 
lightful grand  gentleman  felt  himself  under  an  obligation  to 
help  the  man  who  had  robbed  him  of  Mariette.  The  corps 
de  ba^Jft-vrtxe.  not  without  some  knowledge  of  this  promotion. 
It  hau,  moreover,  been  decided  by  the  wisdom  of  Charles 
X.'s  privy  council  that  his  royal  highness  the  Dauphin 
should  assume  a  slight  tinge  of  liberalism.     Hence  the  great 


2fi3  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

Piiiiippe,  now  the  satellite  of  the  Due  de  Maufrigneuse,  was 
presented  not  only  to  the  Dauphin,  but  also  to  the  Dauphiness, 
who  was  not  ill-disposed  towards  blunt  manners  and  military 
men  with  a  character  for  fidelity.  Philippe  quite  appreciated 
the  Dauphin's  part,  and  he  took  advantage  of  the  first  per- 
formance of  this  assumed  liberalism  to  get  himself  appointed 
aide-de-camp  to  a  marshal  in  favor  at  court. 

In  January,  1827,  Philippe,  transferred  to  the  King's  body- 
guard as  lieutenant-colonel  of  the  regiment  to  which  the  Due 
de  Maufrigneuse  had  been  appointed,  solicited  the  honor  of 
being  allowed  to  assume  a  title.  Under  the  restoration 
ennoblement  became  almost  a  right  of  the  commoners  who 
were  promoted  to  the  Guards,  Colonel  Bridau,  having  just 
bought  the  estate  of  Brambourg,  craved  permission  to  entail 
the  property  with  the  title  of  count.  This  favor  he  obtained 
by  taking  advantage  of  his  connections  in  the  highest  circles, 
appearing  with  a  gorgeous  display  of  carriages  and  liveries  ;  in 
sliort,  with  the  air  and  style  of  a  lord. 

No  sooner  did  Philippe,  lieutenant-colonel  of  the  most 
dashing  cavalry  regiment  of  the  Guards,  see  his  name  in  the 
army  list  as  Comte  de  Brambourg  than  he  took  to  hanging 
about  the  house  of  Lieutenant-General  the  Comte  de  Soulan- 
ges,  and  paying  attention  to  his  younger  daughter.  Mademoi- 
selle Amelie  de  Soulanges.  The  insatiable  Philippe,  supported 
by  the  mistresses  of  the  most  influential  men,  next  craved 
the  honor  of  being  made  aide-de-camp  to  Monseigneur  the 
Dauphin.  He  had  the  audacity  to  say  to  the  Dauphiness  tiiat 
an  "old  officer,  wounded  in  many  a  battle  and  familiar  with 
war  on  a  grand  scale,  might  on  occasion  be  of  use  to  his 
royal  highness." 

Philippe,  who  could  take  the  tone  of  any  servility,  was,  in 
these  high  circles,  exactly  what  he  ought  to  be,  just  as  he  had 
been  a  second  Mignonnet  at  Issoudun.  He  lived  in  the 
greatest  style,  gave  splendid  entertainments  and  dinners,  ad- 
mitting to   his  house  none  of  his  old  friends  whose  position 


A   BACHELOR'S  F.STA BLISHMEh'T.  299 

might  compromise  his  prospects.  Thus  he  was  pitiless  to  the 
companions  of  his  debaucheries.  He  refused  point-blank  when 
Bixiou  asked  him  to  speak  a  word  in  favor  of  Giroudeau,  who 
wished  to  rejoin  the  service  when  Florentine  had  thrown 
him  over. 

"  He  cannot  behave  liimself,"  said  Philippe. 

"So  that  was  what  he  said  of  me!"  cried  Giroudeau, 
"  And  I  relieved  him  of  his  uncle  !  " 

"  We  will  serve  him  out,"  said  Bixiou. 

Philippe  wanted  to  marry  Mademoiselle  Amelie  de  Soulan- 
ges,  to  be  made  a  general,  and  to  have  the  command  of  a 
regiment  of  the  body-guard.  He  asked  for  so  much  that,  to 
keep  him  quiet,  he  was  made  commander  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor  and  of  the  Order  of  Saint-Louis. 

One  evening  Agathe  and  Joseph,  walking  homeward  in 
the  rain,  saw  Philippe  drive  past  in  uniform,  covered  with 
orders ;  he  was  lounging  in  a  corner  of  his  handsome  coupe, 
lined  with  yellow  silk,  and  with  a  coat-of-arms  on  the  panel 
surmounted  by  a  count's  coronet,  on  his  way  to  an  entertain- 
ment at  the  Elysee-Bourbon  ;  he  splashed  his  mother  and 
brother,  recognizing  them  with  a  patronizing  nod. 

"  He  is  going  it;  he  is  going  it  !  the  old  rogue!  "  said 
Joseph  to  his  mother.  "At  the  same  time  he  might  send  us 
something  better  than  the  mud  in  our  faces." 

"  He  is  in  such  a  splendid  position,  so  far  above  us,  that 
we  must  not  owe  him  a  grudge  if  he  forgets  us,"  said  Madame 
Bridau.  "  To  climb  so  steep  a  hill,  he  must  have  so  many 
obligations  to  fulfill,  so  many  sacrifices  to  make,  that  he  may 
well  be  unable  to  come  to  see  us  even  while  thinking  of  us." 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  Duke  de  Maufrigneuse  one 
evening  to  the  new  Comte  de  Brambourg,  "  I  am  sure  that 
your  proposal  will  be  taken  in  good  part ;  but  to  marry  Made- 
moiselle Amelie  de  Soulanges  you  must  be  a  free  man.  What 
have  you  done  with  your  wife?  " 


300  J   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

••My  wife?"  said  Philippe,  with  a  gesture,  a  look,  an 
accent  such  as  Frederick  Lemaitre  afterwards  conceived  of  in 
one  of  his  most  terrible  parts.  "Alas!  I  have  the  melan- 
choly certainty  of  losing  her.  She  has  not  a  week  to  live. 
Ah  !  my  dear  Duke,  you  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  have  mar- 
ried beneath  you  !  A  woman  who  had  been  a  cook,  who  has 
the  tastes  of  a  cook,  and  who  brings  dishonor  on  me — I  am 
much  to  be  pitied.  But  I  have  had  the  honor  of  explaining 
the  situation  to  Madame  the  Dauphiness ;  the  necessity  arose 
some  time  since  for  saving  a  million  of  francs,  which  my 
uncle  had  left  by  will  to  this  creature.  Happily,  my  wife 
has  taken  to  drams  ;  at  her  death  I  become  the  possessor  of  a 
million  in  the  hands  of  Messrs.  Mongenod ;  I  have  more 
than  thirty  thousand  francs  in  the  five  per  cents. ;  and  my 
estate — entailed — which  brings  in  forty  thousand  francs  a 
year.  If,  as  everything  leads  us  to  suppose.  Monsieur  de  Sou- 
langes  receives  a  marshal's  baton,  I,  with  the  title  of  Comte 
de  Brambourg,  am  in  a  position  to  become  a  general  and  a  peer 
of  France.  It  will  be  a  fitting  retirement  for  an  aide-de- 
camp to  the  Dauphin." 

After  the  Salon  of  1823  the  painter  to  the  King,  one  of  the 
kindest-hearted  men  of  his  day,  had  obtained  for  Joseph's 
mother  a  lottery  ticket  office  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
Halle.  Subsequently  Agathe  was  fortunate  enough  to  be  able 
to  exchange,  without  paying  any  premium,  with  the  holder 
of  a  similar  office  in  the  Rue  de  Seine,  in  a  house  where 
Joseph  took  a  studio.  The  widow  now,  in  her  turn,  em- 
I)loyed  a  clerk,  and  cost  her  son  nothing.  Still,  in  1828, 
though  at  the  head  of  a  very  good  lottery  ofiice,  which  she 
owed  to  Josepli's  fame,  Madame  Bridau  did  not  yet  believe  in 
his  glory — which,  indeed,  was  hotly  disputed,  as  all  true  glory 
is.  The  great  painter,  always  struggling  with  his  passions, 
wanted  much  ;  he  could  not  earn  enough  to  keep  up  the  lux- 
ury required  by  his  position   in   society,  and  by  his  distin- 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  301 

guislied  eminence  in  the  younger  school.  Though  he  had 
warm  adherents  in  liis  friends  of  the  Artists'  Society  and  in 
Mademoiselle  des  Touches,  he  did  not  appeal  to  the  Philis- 
tine. This  creature,  in  whose  hands  the  money  lies  nowa- 
days, never  loosens  his  purse-strings  for  talent  that  can  be 
questioned ;  and  Joseph  saw  the  classicists  and  the  institute 
arrayed  against  him,  with  critii.s  who  waited  on  these  two 
powers.  Besides  the  Comte  Brambourg  affected  amazement 
when  any  one  spoke  to  him  of  Joseph.  So  the  courageous 
artist,  though  upheld  by  Gros  and  Gerard,  who  secured  him  the 
cross  during  the  Salon  of  1827,  had  few  commissions.  If 
the  minister  of  the  interior  and  the  royal  establishments  were 
little  inclined  to  purchase  his  large  pictures,  the  dealers  and 
wealthy  foreigners  cared  still  less  to  be  burthened  with  them. 
Besides,  as  we  know,  Joseph  allows  himself  to  be  rather  too 
much  led  away  by  fancy,  and  the  result  is  an  inequality  of 
work,  of  which  his  enemies  take  advantage  to  dispute  his 
talent. 

"  Painting  on  the  heroic  scale  is  in  a  bad  way,"  said  his 
friend  Pierre  Grassou,  as  he  turned  out  daubs  to  the  taste  of 
the  Philistines,  whose  rooms  were  ill  suited  to  large  canvases. 

"What  you  want  is  a  cathedral  to  decorate,"  Schinner 
would  say,  "  then  you  would  reduce  criticism  to  silence  by 
some  great  work." 

All  these  speeches,  which  frightened  good  Agathe,  con- 
firmed her  first  opinion  of  Joseph  and  Philippe.  Facts  were 
on  the  side  of  the  woman,  who  was  still  entirely  provincial ; 
was  not  Philippe,  her  favorite  child,  at  last  the  great  man  of 
the  family?  She  looked  on  the  sins  of  the  boy's  youth  as 
the  aberrations  of  genius.  Joseph,  whose  efforts  left  her 
unmoved — for  she  saw  too  much  of  them  in  their  early  state  to 
admire  them  when  finished — seemed  to  her  no  farther  forward 
in  1828  than  in  1816.  Poor  Joseph  owed  money;  he  was 
crushed  under  the  weight  of  debt ;  he  had  taken  up  a  thank- 
less calling  that  brought  no  returns.     In  short,  Agathe  could 


302  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

not  imagine  why  an  order  should  have  been  bestowed  on 
Joseph. 

Philippe,  with  strength  enough  never  to  go  to  the  gaming- 
table, and  invited  to  madame's  entertainments,  the  splendid 
colonel,  who  at  reviews  and  in  processions  rode  past  in  a  gor- 
geous uniform,  gaudy  with  two  red  ribbons,  realized  Agathe's 
maternal  dreams.  One  day  at  a  public  ceremonial  Philippe 
had  wiped  out  the  odious  picture  of  his  poverty  on  the  Quai 
de  I'Ecole  by  passing  his  mother  on  the  same  spot,  preceding 
the  Dauphin,  with  his  aigrette,  and  his  shako,  and  his  pelisse 
splendid  with  gold-lace  and  fur.  While  to  the  artist  she  had 
become  a  sort  of  devoted  gray  sister,  Agathe  no  longer  felt 
herself  a  mother  excepting  to  the  dashing  aide-de-camp  to 
his  royal  highness  Monseigneur  the  Dauphin.  In  her  pride 
of  Philippe  she  could  have  believed  that  she  owed  her  easier 
means  to  him,  forgetting  that  the  lottery  office  had  come  to 
her  through  Joseph. 

One  day  Agathe  saw  her  poor  artist  so  much  worried  by  the 
heavy  total  of  his  colorman's  bill  that,  while  cursing  the  arts, 
she  longed  to  release  him  from  his  debts.  The  poor  woman, 
who  kept  house  on  the  proceeds  of  her  lottery  tickets,  took 
good  care  never  to  ask  Joseph  for  a  sou.  Thus,  she  had  no 
money ;  but  she  trusted  to  Philippe's  kind  heart  and  purse. 
P'or  three  years,  from  day  to  day,  she  expected  a  visit  from 
her  son ;  she  pictured  him  bringing  her  an  enormous  sum 
and  rejoiced  in  advance  over  the  delight  of  giving  it  to  Joseph, 
whose  opinion  of  Philippe  remained  unchanged,  as  did  that  of 
Desroches. 

So,  without  Joseph's  knowledge,  she  wrote  to  Philippe  the 
following  letter : 

"To  Monsieur  le  Corate  de  Brambourg  : 

"  Mv  DEAR  Philippe: — For  five  years  you  have  never 
given  your  mother  the  smallest  thought.  That  is  not  kind. 
You  ought  to  remember  the  past,  if  only  for  the  sake  of  your 


ACATHE    DROPPED    THE    LETTER. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  303 

excellent  brother.  Joseph  now  is  in  need  of  money,  while 
you  are  swimming  in  opulence ;  he  works,  while  you  rush 
from  party  to  party.  You  possess  the  whole  of  my  brother's 
fortune.  In  short,  from  what  little  Borniche  tells  me,  you 
have  two  hundred  thousand  francs  a  year.  Well,  then,  come 
and  see  Joseph.  In  the  course  of  your  visit  leave  in  the 
death's-head  a  score  of  thousand-franc  notes.  You  owe  us 
that  much,  Philippe;  your  brother  will  nevertheless  feel  him- 
self much  obliged  to  you,  to  say  nothing  of  the  pleasure  you 
will  give  your  mother. 

"Agathe  Bridau  nee  Rouget." 

Two  days  after  the  maid  brought  up  to  the  studio,  where 
poor  Agathe  had  just  breakfasted  with  Joseph,  the  following 
dreadful  note  : 

"My  dear  Mother: — I  cannot  marry  Mademoiselle 
Amelie  de  Soulanges  with  a  handful  of  walnut  shells,  when 
behind  the  name  of  Comte  de  Brambourg  there  lies  that  of 
your  son  Philippe  Bridau.  " 

As  she  sank  almost  fainting  on  the  studio  sofa,  Agathe 
dropped  the  letter.  The  slight  rustle  of  the  paper  as  it  fell  and 
Agathe's  low  but  terrible  cry  startled  Joseph,  who  was  painting 
away  vehemently  on  a  sketch.  He  looked  round  the  edge  of 
his  canvas  to  see  what  was  happening.  Seeing  his  mother  lying 
there,  the  painter  put  down  his  palette  and  brushes  and  flew 
to  raise  her,  almost  a  corpse.  He  took  Agathe  in  his  arms, 
carried  her  on  to  the  bed  in  her  room,  and  sent  the  maid  to 
fetch  his  friend  Bianchon.  As  soon  as  Joseph  could  question 
his  mother,  she  confessed  her  letter  to  Pliilippe  and  his  reply 
to  her.  The  artist  went  to  pick  up  the  note,  of  which  the 
concise  brutality  had  broken  th»  ^r^il  heart  of  the  poor  mother 
by  overturning  the  towerin/  'H^'zt  rais'S'^  by  her  maternal 
preference. 


304  A  BACHELOR'S  ESIABLISHMENT. 

Joseph  came  back  to  his  mother's  bedside,  and  had  the  wit 
to  be  silent.  He  never  mentioned  his  brother  during  the 
three  weeks  while  his  poor  mother  lay,  not  ill  indeed,  but 
dying.  Indeed,  Bianchon,  who  came  every  day  and  attended 
the  poor  woman  with  the  devotion  of  a  true  friend,  told 
Joseph  the  truth  on  the  first  day. 

"At  her  age,"  said  he,  "  and  in  the  position  in  which  your 
mother  will  find  herself,  we  can  only  try  to  make  death  as 
easy  to  her  as  possible." 

Agathe,  indeed,  felt  herself  so  surely  called  to  God  that 
on  the  very  next  day  she  begged  the  religious  care  of  old 
Abbe  Loraux,  her  spiritual  director  for  two-and-twenty  years. 
As  soon  as  she  was  alone  with  him,  after  pouring  all  her 
sorrow  into  his  heart,  she  repeated  what  she  had  said  to  her 
godmother,  what  she  was  constantly  saying — 

"  How  have  I  angered  God?  Do  I  not  love  Him  with  all 
my  soul  ?  Have  I  not  walked  in  the  way  of  salvation  ?  What 
is  my  sin  ?  And  if  I  am  so  guilty  of  an  error  I  am  unconscious 
of,  have  I  now  time  to  repair  it  ?  " 

"No,"  said  the  old  man  in  a  mild  voice.  "Alas!  your 
life  seems  blameless  and  your  soul  unspotted  ;  but  God's 
eye,  poor,  suffering  woman,  is  more  penetratmg  than  that  of 
His  ministers.  I  myself  see  clearly  now,  but  too  late — for 
you  have  blinded  me  till  now." 

As  she  heard  this  speech,  uttered  by  lips  from  which  hith- 
erto no  words  but  those  of  peace  and  honey  had  fallen  for 
her,  Agathe  sat  up  in  bed,  with  wide  eyes  full  of  terror  and 
distress. 

"  Speak,  speak  !  "  she  cried. 

"Be  comforted,"  said  the  old  priest.  "  From  the  manner 
of  your  punishment  you  may  look  for  forgiveness.  God  is 
severe  in  this  world  only  on  His  chosen  few.  Woe  unto 
those  whose  misdeeds  find  favoring  chances  ;  they  will  be 
kneaded  again  in  human  form  till  they  in  their  turn  are 
sternly  punished  for  mere  mistakes  and  ripen  into  food  for 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISILMENT.  305 

heaven.  Your  life,  my  daughter,  has  been  one  long  mistake. 
You  fell  into  the  pit  you  dug  for  yourself,  for  we  always  fail 
on  the  side  we  ourselves  have  weakened.  You  gave  all  your 
heart  to  a  wretch  in  whom  you  saw  your  glory,  and  you 
have  misprized  the  child  who  is  your  true  glory.  Your  in- 
justice has  been  so  deep  that  you  have  not  observed  this 
striking  contrast ;  your  means  of  living  even  have  come  to 
you  from  Joseph,  while  your  other  son  has  constantly  plun- 
dered you.  Your  poorer  son,  who  loves  you  without  the  re- 
ward of  equal  tenderness,  gives  you  your  daily  bread  ;  while 
the  rich  man,  who  has  never  cared  for  you,  and  who  scorns 
you,  longs  for  your  death." 

"  Oh  !  for  that  matter "  she  put  in. 

"  Yes,"  the  priest  went  on,  "■  your  humble  condition  inter- 
feres with  the  schemes  of  his  pride.  So,  as  a  mother,  this 
is  your  crime  !  As  a  woman,  your  sufferings  and  sorrows 
promise  you  the  joy  and  peace  and  the  Lord.  Your  son 
Joseph  is  so  noble  that  his  affection  has  never  been  dimin- 
ished by  the  injustice  of  your  favoritism  ;  love  him  as  he 
deserves.  Give  him  your  whole  heart  during  these  last  days. 
And  pray  for  him — I  will  go  and  pray  for  you." 

The  mother's  eyes,  unsealed  by  so  firm  a  hand,  looked  back 
with  a  retrospective  glance  on  the  whole  of  her  past  life. 
Enlightened  by  this  sudden  flash,  she  perceived  the  involun- 
tary wrong  she  had  done,  and  melted  into  tears.  The  old 
priest  was  so  much  moved  by  the  spectacle  of  an  erring  and 
repentant  creature,  sinning  solely  by  ignorance,  that  he  left 
the  room  not  to  betray  his  compassion. 

About  two  hours  after  the  confessor's  departure,  Joseph 
came  into  his  mother's  room.  He  had  been  to  a  friend  to 
borrow  the  necessary  money  to  pay  his  most  pressing  debts, 
and  he  crept  in  on  tiptoe,  believing  that  his  mother  was 
asleep.  He  then  sat  down  in  an  armchair,  without  being  seen 
by  the  sick  woman. 

A  sob,  broken  by  the  words,  "  Will  he  ever  forgive  me?" 
20 


306  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

made  Joseph  start  up  with  the  cold  perspiration  down  his 
back,  for  he  thought  his  mother  was  in  tlie  delirium  that  pre- 
cedes death. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  mother?"  he  cried,  terrified  to  see 
her  eyes  red  with  weeping,  her  woe-stricken  face,  and  noting 
her  quavering  voice. 

"  Oh,  Joseph  !  can  you  forgive  me,  my  child  ?  "  cried  she. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  the  artist. 

"  I  have  not  loved  you  as  you  deserved " 

"  What  a  preposterous  idea  !  "  cried  he.     "  You  have  not 

loved   me ?     Have   we  not   lived  together    these   seven 

years?  Have  you  not  kept  house  for  me  for  seven  years  ? 
Do  I  not  see  you  every  day  ?  Do  I  not  hear  your  voice  ? 
Are  you  not  the  gentle  and  indulgent  sharer  of  my  poverty  ? 
You  do  not  understand  art  and  painting  !  Well,  but  that 
is  not  to  be  taught.  And  only  yesterday  I  was  saying  to 
Grassou,  '  The  thing  that  comforts  mc  m  all  my  struggles  is 
that  I  have  such  a  good  mother ;  she  is  just  what  an  artist's 
wife  ought  to  be  ;  she  takes  care  of  everything ;  she  looks 
after  my  creature  comforts  without  making  any  fuss 

"  No,  Joseph,  no.  You  have  loved  me,  and  I  have  never 
returned  you  tenderness  for  tenderness.  Oh  !  how  I  wish  I 
might  live  ! Give  me  your  hand." 

Agathe  took  her  son's  hand,  kissed  and  held  it  to  her 
heart,  gazing  at  him  for  a  long  time,  her  blue  eyes  radiant 
with  the  affection  she  had  hitherto  always  kept  for  Philippe. 
The  painter,  who  had  studied  expression,  was  so  struck  by 
the  change,  and  saw  so  plainly  that  his  mother's  heart  had 
opened  to  him,  that  he  put  his  arms  around  her  and  held  her 
clasped  for  some  seconds,  saying  like  a  crazy  creature,  "  Oh, 
mother,  mother  !  " 

"Ah,  I  feel  I  am  forgiven  !  "  said  she.  "  Goil  must  surely 
ratify  a  son's  forgiveness  of  his  mother." 

"You  must  keep  calm;  do  not  worry  yourself.  It  is  all 
over  now.     I  feel  that  I  am  enough  loved  at  this  moment  for 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  307 

all  the  past,"  cried  Joseph,  laying  his  mother's  head  gently 
on  the  pillow. 

During  a  fortnight,  while  life  and  death  were  contending 
for  the  saintly  creature,  she  had  for  Joseph  such  looks,  such 
impulses  of  soul  and  expressions  of  gesture,  as  revealed  love 
so  perfect  that  a  whole  life  seemed  contained  in  each  outburst. 
The  mother  now  thought  only  of  her  son  ;  she  counted  her- 
self as  nothing,  and,  upheld  by  love,  no  longer  felt  her  suffer- 
ings. She  made  artless  speeches  like  a  child's.  D'Arthez, 
Michel  Chrestien,  Fulgence  Ridal,  Pierre  Grassou,  and  Bian- 
chon  came  to  keep  Joseph  company,  and  often  held  discus- 
sions in  an  undertone  in  the  sick  woman's  room. 

"Oh!  how  I  wish  I  knew  what  was  meant  by  color!  " 
she  exclaimed  one  evening  when  she  heard  them  talking 
about  a  picture. 

Joseph's  conduct  on  his  part  was  sublime  towards  his 
mother ;  he  scarcely  left  her  room  ;  he  cherished  Agathe  in 
his  heart ;  he  responded  to  her  tenderness  with  equal  tender- 
ness. It  was  to  the  painter's  friends  one  of  those  beautiful 
spectacles  which  can  never  be  forgotten.  These  men,  who 
were  all  examples  of  the  union  of  real  talent  and  noble  char- 
acter, were  for  Joseph  a^d  his  mother  all  that  they  ought  to 
be — angels  who  prayed  with  him  and  wept  with  him — not 
that  they  said  prayers  or  shed  tears,  but  they  were  one  with 
him  in  thought  and  act.  Joseph,  an  artist  as  noble  in  feeling 
as  in  gifts,  read  in  certain  of  his  mother's  looks  a  longing 
hidden  deep  in  her  heart ;  and  he  said  one  day  to  d'Arthez, 
"She  was  too  fond  of  that  robber  Philippe  not  to  want  to 

see  him  again  before  she  dies " 

Joseph  requested  Bixiou,  who  was  a  figure  in  the  Bohemian 
world  which  Pliilippe  would  occasionally  frequent,  to  make 
that  infamous  parvenu  promise  to  assume,  out  of  pity,  some 
show  of  affection,  so  as  to  wrap  the  poor  mother's  heart  in  a 
shroud  graced  by  illusion.  Bixiou,  as  a  student  of  human 
nature,  a  misanthropic  scoffer,  was  ready  and  willing  to  un- 


308  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

dertake  such  a  mission.  When  he  had  explained  Agathe's 
situation  to  the  Cointe  de  Brambourg,  who  received  him  in  a 
bedroom  hung  with  yellow  silk  damask,  the  colonel  burst  out 
laughing — 

"  What  the  devil  do  you  want  me  to  do  there?  "  cried  he. 
"  The  only  service  the  good  woman  can  do  me  is  to  kick  the 
bucket  as  soon  as  possible,  for  she  would  cut  a  bad  figure  at 
my  wedding  with  Mademoiselle  de  Soulanges,  The  less  family 
I  have  to  show,  the  better  for  me  !  As  you  may  well  sup- 
pose, I  only  wish  I  could  bury  the  name  of  Bridau  under  all 
the  tombstones  in  Pere-Lachaise. 

*'  My  brother  ruins  me  by  proclaiming  my  real  name  to  the 
world.  But  you,  at  any  rate,  are  too  clever  not  to  understand 
my  position.  Come,  now — if  you  were  to  be  elected  deputy, 
you  have  a  ready  tongue  of  your  own ;  you  would  be  as  much 
feared  as  Chauvelin,  and  you  might  be  made  Comte  Bixiou, 
Director  of  the  Beaux  Arts.  If  you  had  achieved  that,  and 
if  your  grandmother  Descoings  were  still  alive,  how  would 
you  like  to  have  that  good  woman  at  your  elbow — a  woman 
like  Madame  Saint-Leon  ?  Would  you  offer  her  your  arm  in 
the  Tuileries  ?  Would  you  introduce  her  to  the  noble  family 
you  might  seek  to  enter  ?  By  heaven  !  I  tell  you,  you  would 
wish  her  six  feet  under  ground,  packed  in  a  wrapper  of  lead. 
Come,  breakfast  with  me,  and  we  will  talk  of  something  else. 
I  am  a  parvenu,  my  dear  fellow,  and  I  know  it.  I  do  not 
mean  to  display  my  baby-clothes  !  My  son,  now,  will  be 
luckier  than  I ;  he  will  be  a  fine  gentleman.  The  rascal  will 
wish  me  dead,  and  I  quite  expect  it,  or  he  will  be  no  son  of 
mine." 

He  rang  the  bell ;  a  footman  came  in,  to  whom  he  said — 

"  My  friend  will  breakfast  with  me.  Send  up  something 
elegant." 

"  But  the  fashionable  world  would  not  see  you  in  your 
mother's  room,"  retorted  Bixiou.  "  What  would  it  cost  you 
to  pretend  to  love  the  poor  woman  for  a  few  hours  ?  " 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  309 

"  All  my  eye  !  "  said  Philippe,  with  a  wink.  "  They  have 
sent  you.  I  am  an  old  bird  and  not  to  be  caught  with  chaff. 
My  mother  wants  to  conjure  me  with  her  last  breath  to  fork 
out  something  for  Joseph  !     Thank  you  for  nothing." 

When  Bixiou  repeated  this  scene  to  Joseph,  the  poor  painter 
felt  chilled  to  the  very  soul. 

"Does  Philippe  know  that  I  am  ill?"  said  Agathe  in  a 
lamentable  voice  the  evening  of  the  very  day  when  Bixiou 
had  given  an  account  of  his  errand. 

Joseph  left  the  room,  choked  with  tears.  The  Abbe 
Loraux,  who  was  at  the  patient's  side,  took  her  hand  and 
pressed  it  as  he  replied,  "Alas!  my  child,  you  have  never 
had  but  one  son." 

On  hearing  these  words,  which  she  understood,  Agathe 
had  an  attack  that  was  the  beginning  of  the  end.  She  died 
twenty  hours  after.  In  the  wanderings  of  her  mind  before 
death  the  words  escaped  her,  "  Who  does  Philippe  take 
after?" 

Joseph  alone  followed  his  mother  to  the  grave.  Philippe 
had  gone  to  Orleans  on  regimental  business,  scared  from  Paris 
by  the  following  letter,  addressed  to  him  by  Joseph  as  their 
mother  breathed  her  last : 

"Wretch: — My  poor  mother  is  dead  of  the  shock  your 
letter  caused.  Put  on  mourning.  But  pretend  to  be  ill ;  I 
will  not  have  her  murderer  to  stand  at  my  side  by  her  coffin. 

"Joseph  B." 

The  painter,  who  had  lost  all  heart  for  his  painting,  though 
his  deep  grief  perhaps  needed  the  sort  of  mechanical  diver- 
sion that  work  brings  with  it,  was  surrounded  by  friends, 
who  agreed  among  themselves  not  to  leave  him  to  solitude. 
Thus  Bixiou,  who  loved  Joseph  as  truly  as  a  scoffer  can  love 
any  one,  was  one  of  a  group  of  friends  in  Joseph's  studio 
one  day,  a  fortnight  after  the  funeral.     At  this  moment  the 


310  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

maid  bustled  in,  and  handed  to  Joseph  a  letter,  brought,  as 
she  said,  by  an  old  woman  who  would  wait  for  the  answer 
in  the  porter's  lodge  : 

"  Monsieur  : — Whom  I  do  not  venture  to  call  my  brother, 
I  must  apply  to  you,  were  it  only  by  reason  of  the  name  J 
bear ' ' 

Joseph  turned  the  page,  and  looked  at  the  signature  at  thi 
end.  There  these  words,  "  Comtesse  Flore  de  Brambourg," 
made  his  blood  run  chill,  for  he  foresaw  some  fresh  abominr. 
tion  of  his  brother's  doing. 

"That  wretch,"  said  he  "  would  outdevil  the  devil !  An<?. 
that  is  a  man  of  honor — that  can  hang  a  peck  of  tinsel  on  its 
breast — that  spreads  its  tail  at  court  instead  of  being  flogge(^ 
at  the  cart's  tail  !  And  this  precious  scoundrel  is  Monsieur 
le  Comte!  " 

"  There  are  many  like  him,"  said  Bixiou. 

"And  besides  that,  this  Rabouilleuse  deserves  nothing  fron? 
me,"  Joseph  went  on.  "She  is  not  worth  a  curse;  she 
would  have  left  me  to  have  my  head  chopped  off  like  a  fowi 
without  ever  saying  '  He  is  innocent.'  " 

As  Joseph  tossed  away  the  letter,  Bixiou  nimbly  caught  it, 
and  read  aloud  : 

*' — Is  it  becoming  that  Madame  la  Comtesse  de  Brambourg, 
whatever  her  faults  may  be,  should  be  sent  to  die  in  a  hospital  ? 
If  that  is  to  be  my  fate,  if  that  is  the  Count's  wish  and  yours, 
so  be  it ;  but  then,  as  you  are  a  friend  of  Doctor  Bianchon's, 
obtain  his  introduction  to  get  me  into  a  hospital.  The  woman 
who  takes  you  this  letter,  monsieur,  has  been  eleven  days 
running  to  the  Hotel  de  Brambourg  in  the  Rue  de  Clichy 
without  being  able  to  obtain  any  help  from  my  husband. 
The  state  in  which  I  am  prevents  my  employing  an  attorney 
so  as  to  obtain  by  law  what  is  due  to  me  and  to  die  in  peace. 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  311 

Indeed,  nothing  can  save  me  ;  I  know  it.  So  if  you  will 
positively  have  nothing  to  say  to  your  unhappy  sister-in-law, 
give  me  money  enough  to  enable  me  to  put  an  end  to  my 
days ;  for  your  brother,  I  see,  wishes  my  death,  and  always 
has  wished  it.  Though  he  told  me  he  knew  three  certain 
ways  of  killing  a  woman,  I  had  not  the  wit  to  foresee  the 
means  he  has  taken. 

"If  so  be  you  should  honor  me  with  a  little  assistance,  and 
judge  for  yourself  of  the  misery  I  am  in,  I  am  living  in  the 
Rue  du  Houssay,  at  the  corner  of  the  Rue  Chantereine,  on 
the  fifth  floor.  If  I  do  not  pay  my  arrears  of  rent  to-morrow, 
I  must  turn  out.  And  where  am  I  to  go,  monsieur  ?  May  I 
sign  myself, 

"  Your  sister-in-law, 

"  CoMTESSE  Flore  de  Brambourg?" 

"What  a  foul  pit  of  infamy  !  "  said  Joseph.  "  What  is  there 
behind  it?" 

"  Have  the  woman  up  first ;  that  will  be  a  worthy  preface 
to  the  story,  no  doubt,"  said  Bixiou. 

A  minute  after  there  appeared  on  the  scene  a  woman  whom 
Bixiou  described  as  walking  rags.  She  was,  in  fact,  a  mass 
of  old  clothes  and  gowns,  one  over  another,  bordered  with 
mud  from  the  weather,  the  whole  mounted  on  thick  legs  and 
splay  feet,  with  patched  stockings  and  shoes,  from  which  the 
water  oozed  through  many  cracks.  To  crown  this  mass  of 
rubbish  was  such  a  head  as  Charlet  has  given  to  his  sweepers, 
helmeted  with  a  hideous  bandana,  worn  threadbare  even  in 
the  creases. 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  Joseph,  while  Bixiou 
.sketched  the  woman  as  she  stood,  leaning  on  an  umbrella 
of  the  year  II.  of  the  Republic. 

"Madame  Gruget.  at  your  service.  I  have  drawed  my 
dividends  in  my  day,  my  little  gentleman."  said  she  to 
Bixiou,  whose  covert  smile  offended  her.      "If  my  7)ore  girl 


Sl2  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

hadn't  been  so  unlucky  as  to  be  too  fond  of  a  man,  I  shouldn't 
look  so  as  you  see  me.  She  made  a  hole  in  the  water,  saving 
your  presence,  my  poor  Ida.  And  then  I  was  fool  enough  to 
go  in  for  lottery  tickets,  four  numbers,  and  sticking  to  them, 
and  that  is  why  at  seventy  years  old,  my  good  monsieur,  I  am 
sick-nurse  at  ten  sous  a  day  and  my  food " 

"  But  not  your  clothes,"  said  Bixiou.  "  My  grandmother 
dressed  herself,  besides  keeping  up  a  snug  little  ternion." 

"  But  out  of  my  ten  sous  I  have  to  pay  for  a  furnished 
room ' ' 

"  And  what  has  she  got — this  lady  you  are  nursing  ?  " 

"  She  has  got  nothing,  monsieur,  by  way  of  money  I  mean  ; 
but  she  has  got  some  complaint  that  frightens  the  doctors. 
She  owes  me  sixty  days'  pay,  and  that  is  why  I  stay  with  her. 
Her  husband,  who  is  a  count — for  she  is  a  countess — will  pay 
the  bill,  no  doubt,  when  she  is  dead,  and  counting  on  that  I 

have  loaned  her  all  I  had But  I  have  nothing  left,  and 

I  have  put  everything  up  the  spout.  She  owes  me  forty-seven 
francs  and  twelve  sous,  besides  the  thirty  francs  wages,  and  as 
she  wants  to  choke  herself  off  with  charcoal :  '  That  is  not 
right,'  says  I — more  by  token  I  told  the  woman  in  the  lodge 
to  keep  an  eye  on  her  while  I  was  out,  for  she  is  capable  of 
throwing  herself  out  of  the  window." 

"  But  what  seems  to  be  the  matter  with  her?  "  said  Joseph, 
kindly. 

"  Well,  sir,  the  doctor  came  from  the  Sisters  ;  but  as  to 
what  is  the  matter,"  said  Madame  Gruget,  with  a  prudish 
air — "  he  said  she  must  go  to  the  hospital — and  she  wouldn't 
get  over  it." 

"We  will  go  and  see  about  it,"  said  Bixiou. 

"Here,"  said  Joseph,   "  here  are  ten  francs." 

After  putting  his  hand  into  the  famous  death's-head  and 
taking  out  all  his  change,  the  painter  walked  to  the  Rue  Maz- 
arine, where  he  took  a  hackney  cab  and  went  off  to  Bianchon, 
whom  he  fortunately  found  at  home,  while  Bixiou  set  out  for 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT,  313 

the  Rue  de  Bussy,  to  fetch  tliL-ir  friend  Desroches.     The  four 
friends  met  an  hour  after  in  the  Rue  de  Houssay. 

"That  Mephistopheles  on  horseback  called  Philippe  Bri- 
dau,"  said  Bixiou  to  his  three  friends  as  they  clinnbed  the 
stairs,  "has  steered  his  bark  in  a  cunning  way  to  get  rid  of 
his  wife.  Our  friend  Lousteau,  as  you  know,  only  too  glad 
to  get  a  thousand-franc  note  every  month  from  Philippe,  kept 
Madame  Bridau  in  the  company  of  Florine,  Mariette,  Tullia, 
and  La  Val-Noble.  Just  as  soon  as  Philippe  saw  his  Rabouil- 
leuse  accustomed  to  dress  and  expensive  pleasures,  he  gave 
her  no  more  money,  but  left  her  to  make  it — you  may  imagine 
how.  Thus  by  the  end  of  eighteen  months  Philippe  left 
his  wife  to  sink  a  little  lower,  from  quarter  to  quarter;  and  at 
last,  by  the  help  of  a  splendid  young  subaltern,  he  suggested 
to  her  a  taste  for  dram-drinking.  As  he  rose  his  wife  sank, 
and  the  Countess  is  now  in  the  kennel.  The  woman  born  in 
the  fields  is  hard  to  kill ;  I  do  not  know  how  Philippe  set 
to  work  to  get  rid  of  her.  I  am  curious  to  study  this  little 
drama,  for  I  owe  the  fellow  a  revenge.  Alas  !  my  friends," 
Bixiou  went  on,  in  a  tone  that  left  his  three  companions 
doubtful  whether  he  spoke  in  jest  or  in  earnest.  "  to  get 
rid  of  a  man  you  have  only  to  inoculate  him  with  a  vice. 

"'She  loved  balls  too  well  and  that  was  her  death,'  said 
Victor  Hugo.  There  you  are.  My  grandmother  loved  lot- 
tery gambling ;  Pere  Rouget  loved  a  petticoat,  and  Lolotte 
was  the  death  of  him  !  Madame  Bridau,  poor  creature,  loved 
Philippe,  and  by  Philippe  she  has  perished.  Oh,  Vice  !  Vice  ! 
My  friends,  do  you  know  what  vice  is?  It  is  the  Bonneau 
of  death." 

"  Then  you  will  die  of  a  jest  !  "  said  Desroches,  smiling  at 
Bixiou. 

Above  the  fourth  floor  the  young  men  mounted  one  of 
those  upright  stairways  like  ladders  which  lead  up  to  the  attics 
of  many  houses  in  Paris.  Though  Joseph,  who  had  seen 
Flore  so  handsome,  was  prepared  for  a  dreadful  contrast,  he 


314  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

could  not  conceive  of  the  hideous  spectacle  that  presented 
itself  to  his  artistic  gaze.  Under  the  sharp  slope  of  a  gar- 
ret, with  no  paper  on  the  walls,  and  on  a  camp-bed  with  a 
meagre  mattress  stuffed  perhaps  with  flock,  tiie  three  men 
saw  a  woman  as  green  as  a  body  two  days  drowned,  and 
as  emaciated  as  a  consumptive  patient  within  two  hours  of 
death.  This  malodorous  carcass  wore  a  common  checked 
handkerchief  bound  round  a  head  bereft  of  hair.  The  cav- 
erns of  her  hollow  eyes  were  red,  and  the  lids  like  the  skin 
that  lines  an  egg-shell.  As  to  the  form  that  had  once 
been  so  beautiful,  it  was  a  squalid  skeleton. 

On  seeing  her  visitors,  Flore  drew  across  her  bosom  a  rag 
of  muslin  that  had  probably  been  a  window-blind,  for  it  was 
edged  with  rust  from  the  iron  rod.  The  furniture  consisted 
of  two  chairs,  a  wretched  chest  of  drawers,  on  which  a  tallow 
candle  was  set  in  a  potato,  some  dishes  strewn  on  the  floor, 
and  an  earthen  fire-pot  in  the  corner  of  an  otherwise  empty 
hearth.  Bixiou  saw  the  remains  of  the  half-quire  of  paper 
purchased  at  the  grocer's  for  the  letter  which  the  two  women 
had  no  doubt  concocted  between  them.  The  word  loath- 
some is  but  a  positive  degree  for  which  there  is  no  superlative 
to  express  the  efl"ect  produced  by  this  abject  scene  upon  those 
who  witnessed  it. 

When  the  dying  woman  saw  Joseph,  two  large  tears  fell 
down  her  cheeks. 

"She  can  still  weep,"  said  Bixiou.  "A  strange  sight  in- 
deed— tears  flowing  from  a  bag  of  dominoes.  It  explains 
Moses'  miracle." 

*'  Is  she  not  dried  up?"  cried  Joseph. 

"  By  the  fires  of  repentance,"  said  Flore.  "I  can  have 
no  priest,  I  have  nothing,  not  even  a  crucifix  to  see  the  image 
of  God.  Oh!  monsieur,"  she  went  on,  uplifting  arms  like 
two  carved  wooden  sticks,  "  I  have  been  very  wicked,  but 
God  never  punished  any  one  as  He  has  punished  me  !  Phil- 
ippe killed  Max,  who  had  bidden  me  to  do  horrible  things, 


A  BACHET.OR'S:  F.STABT  TSITMENT.  315 

and  now  he  is  killing  me  too.  God  is  using  him  as  a  scourge 
for  nie  !     Behave  yuurselt"  well,  for  we  all  have  our  Philippe." 

"  Leave  me  alone  with  her,"  said  Bianchon  ;  "  I  want  to 
find  out  if  her  complaint  is  curable."  . 

"If  she  can  be  cured,  Philippe  Bridau  will  be  mad  with 
rage,"  said  Desroches.  "  1  will  have  an  affidavit  prepared  as 
to  the  state  his  wife  is  in  ;  he  has  not  taken  any  steps  against 
her  for  adultery  ;  she  has  all  her  conjugal  rights  ;  he  must 
face  the  scandal  of  a  trial.  First  of  all,  we  will  have  Mad- 
ame la  Comtesse  conveyed  to  Doctor  Dubois*  Home  for  the 
Sick  in  the  Rue  du  Faubourg  Saint-Denis;  she  will  there  be 
nursed  in  luxury.  Then  I  shall  call  upon  the  Count  for  rein- 
statement under  her  husband's  roof." 

"Bravo,  Desroches!"  cried  Bixiou.  "What  joy  to  be 
able  to  do  good  that  will  hurt  so  much  !  " 

Ten  minutes  later  Bianchon  came  down  and  said  to  his 
friends  :  "  I  am  off  at  once  to  Desplein  ;  he  can  save  this 
woman  by  an  operation.  Ah  !  he  will  see  that  she  is  taken 
good  care  of,  for  the  habit  of  drinking  spirits  has  developed 
in  her  a  splendid  disease  that  we  thought  was  extinct." 

"  You  wretch  of  a  doctor,  get  along!  As  if  she  had  but 
one  disease,"  said  Bixiou. 

But  Bianchon  was  already  in  the  courtyard,  so  great  was 
his  haste  to  go  and  tell  the  grand  news  to  Desplein.  Two 
hours  later  Joseph's  unhappy  sister-in-law  was  carried  to  the 
private  hospital  founded  by  Doctor  Dubois,  which  was  sub- 
sequently bought  by  the  city  of  Paris. 

Three  weeks  later  the  Hospital  Gazette  contained  an  ac- 
count of  one  of  the  boldest  attempts  of  modern  surgery  in 
operating  on  a  patient  mentioned  under  the  initials  F.  B. 
The  subject  died,  much  more  of  the  weakness  consequent  on 
prolonged  privations  than  as  a  result  of  the  operation. 

The  Comte  de  Brambourg  at  once  went  in  deep  mourning 
to  call  on  the  Comte  de  Soulanges,  and  inform  him  of  the 
melancholy  loss  he  had  sustained.     It  was  whispered  in  the 


316  A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

fashionable  world  that  the  Comte  de  Soulanges  was  allowing 
his  daughter  to  marry  a  parvenu  of  distinguished  merit,  who 
was  to  be  made  marechal  de  camp  and  colonel  of  a  regiment 
of  the  body-guard.  De  Marsay  announced  the  news  to  Ras- 
tignac,  who  spoke  of  it  at  a  supper  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale 
where  he  met  Bixiou. 

"  That  shall  never  be  !  "  said  the  cunning  artist  to  himself. 

If  among  the  friends  Philippe  had  cut  adrift  there  were 
some  who,  like  Giroudeau,  could  not  revenge  themselves,  he 
had  proved  himself  unwary  in  offending  Bixiou,  whose  wit 
secured  him  a  reception  everywhere,  and  who  never  forgave  a 
slight.  Now  at  the  Rocher  de  Cancale,  in  the  presence  of 
highly  respectable  persons  at  supper  there,  Philippe  had  re- 
plied when  Bixiou  asked  him  to  invite  him  to  the  Hotel  de 
Brambourg,  "You  may  come  to  my  house  when  you  are  a 
minister." 

"  Must  I  also  become  a  Protestant  to  get  into  your  house?  " 
replied  Bixiou  lightly  ;  but  he  said  to  himself,  "  Though  you 
may  be  a  Goliath,  I  have  a  sling,  and  plenty  of  stones  to 
fling." 

Next  day  the  practical  joker  dressed  at  the  house  of  an  actor, 
a  friend  of  his,  and  was  metamorphosed  by  the  omnipotent  art 
of  "  make-up"  into  a  secularized  priest  in  green  spectacles; 
then  he  took  a  fly  and  drove  to  the  house  of  the  Comte  de 
Soulanges.  Bixiou,  treated  by  Philippe  as  a  buffoon,  meant 
to  play  a  trick  on  him. 

Being  admitted  by  the  Comte  de  Soulanges  on  his  urgent 
plea  that  he  had  an  important  matter  to  lay  before  the  Count, 
Bixiou  played  the  part  of  a  venerable  personage  charged  with 
an  important  secret.  In  an  assumed  voice  he  related  the  his- 
tory of  the  dead  Countess'  illness,  of  which  Bianchon  had  given 
him  the  particulars,  that  of  Agathe's  death,  that  of  old  Rou- 
get's  death,  of  which  the  Comte  de  Brambourg  had  boasted, 
and  that  of  old  Madame   Descoings'  end ;   the  story  of  the 


A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  317 

"  loan  "  from  the  cash-box  of  the  newspaper,  and  the  facts  as 
to  Philippe's  general  conduct  in  his  worst  times. 

"Monsieur  le  Comte,  do  not  give  him  your  daughter  till 
you  have  made  every  inquiry ;  question  his  former  friends — 
Bixiou,  Captain  Giroudeau,  and  others." 

Three  months  after  this  the  Comte  de  Brambourg  enter- 
tained a  party  at  supper  :  du  Tillet,  Nucingen,  Rastignac, 
Maxime  de  Trailles,  and  de  Marsay.  The  host  was  taking 
very  easily  the  half-consolatory  speeches  made  to  him  by  guests 
concerning  his  rupture  with  the  house  of  Soulanges. 

"You  can  do  belter,"  said  Maxime. 

"What  fortune  would  be  expected  to  qualify  a  man  to 
marry  a  demoiselle  de  Grandlieu  ? "  asked  Philippe  of  de 
Marsay. 

"  To  qualify  you  ?  They  would  not  let  you  have  the  ugliest 
of  the  six  for  less  than  ten  million  francs,"  replied  de  Marsay 
insolently. 

"  Pooh  !  "  said  Rastignac ;  "  but  with  two  hundred  thousand 
francs  a  year  you  may  have  Mademoiselle  de  Langeais,  the 
Marquis'  daughter  ;  she  is  ugly,  she  is  thirty,  and  has  not  a  sou 
of  her  own.     That  ought  to  satisfy  you." 

"  I  shall  have  ten  millions  within  two  years'  time,"  replied 
Philippe  Bridau. 

"It  is  January  i6,  1829,"  cried  du  Tillet,  smiling.  "I 
have  been  working  for  ten  years,  and  I  have  not  so  much, 
not  I!" 

"  We  will  advise  each  other,  and  you  will  see  how  I  manage 
money  matters." 

"Why,  how  much  have  you  altogether?"  asked  Nucingen. 

"  If  I  sold  my  securities  and  everything,  excepting  my 
estate  and  this  house,  which  I  could  not  and  will  not  risk,  as 
they  are  secured  by  entail,  I  could  certainly  handle  three 
millions." 

Nucingen  and  du  Tillet  looked  at  each  other ;  then  after 
this  keen  flash,  du  Tillet  said  to  Philij)pe — 


318  A   BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT. 

"My  dear  Count,  we  will  work  in  partnership  if  you  like.*' 

De  Marsay  caught  the  glance  that  du  Tillet  had  shot  at 
Nucingen,  and  which  said,  "  Those  millions  are  ours  !  " 

In  fact,  these  two  great  financiers  were  at  the  very  centre 
of  political  affairs,  enabling  them  to  gamble  on  the  Bourse  at 
a  given  date  and  with  absolute  certainty,  against  Philippe, 
when  the  chances  would  seem  to  him  to  be  in  his  favor,  while 
in  reality  they  were  in  theirs. 

The  chance  came.  In  July,  1830,  du  Tillet  and  Nucingen 
had  enabled  the  Comte  de  Brambourg  to  make  fifteen  hun- 
dred thousand  francs ;  he  no  longer  distrusted  them,  and 
thought  their  advice  sound.  Philippe,  who  had  risen  by  the 
Restoration,  and  who  was  misled  by  intense  contempt  for 
civilians,  believed  in  the  success  of  the  new  decrees,  and  would 
play  for  a  rise;  while  Nucingen  and  du  Tillet,  who  expected 
a  revolution,  played  against  him  for  a  fall.  But  the  two 
shrewd  partners  aff"ected  to  agree  with  Colonel  the  Comte  de 
Brambourg,  and  seemed*  to  share  his  convictions  ;  they  held 
out  hopes  of  his  doubling  his  millions,  and  arranged  to  win 
them  from  him.  Philippe  fought  like  a  man  to  whom  victory 
means  four  million  francs.  His  zeal  was  so  conspicuous  that 
he  was  ordered  to  return  to  Saint-Cloud  with  the  Due  de 
Maufrigneuse  to  sit  in  council.  This  mark  of  favor  saved 
Philippe;  for  he  wanted,  on  July  25th,  to  sweep  the  boule- 
vards with  a  charge  of  cavalry,  and  he  would  no  doubt  have 
fallen  to  a  bullet  from  his  friend  Giroudeau,  who  commanded 
a  body  of  the  adversary. 

Within  a  month  nothing  of  his  immense  fortune  remained 
to  Colonel  Bridau  but  his  mansion,  his  estate,  his  pictures, 
and  furniture.  He  was  fool  enough  too,  as  he  said,  to  believe 
in  the  re-establishment  of  the  elder  branch,  to  which  he  re- 
mained faithful  till  1834.  Then,  on  seeing  Giroudeau  a  colonel, 
Philippe,  prompted  by  a  very  intelligible  jealousy,  rejoined 
the  service.  In  1835  he,  unfortunately,  was  appointed  to  the 
command  of  a  regiment  in  Algiers,  where  for  three  years  he 


A  BACHELOR'S  ESTABLISHMENT.  319 

was  left  in  a  post  of  danger,  hoping  to  win  his  general's  epau- 
lettes ;  but  a  malignant  influence — that  of  General  Giroudeau 
— left  him  where  he  was.  Philippe,  by  this  time  grown  hard, 
carried  military  severity  to  an  extreme  and  was  detested  in 
spite  of  his  Murat-like  bravery. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  fatal  year  1839,  in  the  course 
of  a  retreat,  he  rushed  on  the  foe,  supported  by  one  company 
only.  They  fell  upon  a  body  of  Arabs ;  the  struggle  was 
bloody,  frightful,  hand  to  hand,  and  very  ievf  of  the  French 
horse  escaped.  Their  colonel  was  surrounded,  but  they  did 
not  deem  it  wise  to  perish  in  a  vain  attempt  to  rescue  him. 
They  heard  his  shout,  "Help!  Your  colonel!  A  colonel 
of  the  empire  !  "  followed  by  fearful  cries,  but  they  got  back 
to  their  regiment.  Philippe  died  a  horrible  death,  for  they 
cut  off  his  head,  when  he  fell  hacked  almost  to  pieces  by 
yataghans. 

Joseph,  who  was  married  about  this  time  to  the  daughter  of 
an  old  millionaire  farmer,  inherited  the  house  and  the  estate  of 
Brambourg.  What  gave  the  painter  most  pleasure  was  the  fine 
collection  of  pictures.  Joseph,  whose  father-in-law  adds  daily 
to  his  hoards,  has  already  an  income  of  sixty  thousand  francs. 
Though  he  paints  splendid  pictures,  and  is  always  doing  ser- 
vices to  his  fellow-artists,  he  is  not  yet  a  member  of  the  in- 
stitute. In  consequence  of  a  clause  in  the  parchment  of  en- 
tail, he  is  now  Comte  de  Brambourg,  which  often  makes  him 
burst  out  laughing  among  his  friends  in  his  studio. 

"Fine  birds  make  fine  feathers,"  his  friend  Leon  de  Lora 
will  then  remark ;  for  even  now  that  he  is  famous  as  a  land- 
scape painter,  he  has  not  given  up  his  old  trick  of  perverting 
proverbs,  and  he  told  Joseph  a  propos  of  the  modesty  with 
which  he  accepted  the  favors  of  fortune,  "  Never  mind.  A 
feast  is  as  good  as  enough." 

Paris,  Novejtiber,  1842. 


PEACE  IN  THE  HOUSE. 

(Z^  Paix  du  Menage.^ 

The  incident  recorded  in  this  sketch  took  place  towards  the 
end  of  the  month  of  November,  1809,  at  the  moment  when 
Napoleon's  fugitive  Empire  attained  the  apogee  of  its  splendor. 
The  trumpet  blasts  of  Wugrain  were  still  sounding  an  echo  in 
the  heart  of  the  Austrian  monarchy.  Peace  was  being  signed 
between  France  and  the  Coalition.  Kings  and  princes  came 
to  perform  their  orbits  like  stars  around  Napoleon,  who  gave 
himself  the  pleasure  of  dragging  all  Europe  in  his  train,  a 
magnificent  experiment  in  the  power  he  afterwards  displayed 
at  Dresden.  Never,  as  contemporaries  tell  us,  did  Paris  see 
entertainments  more  superb  than  those  which  preceded  and  fol- 
lowed the  sovereign's  marriage  with  an  Austrian  archduchess. 
Never,  in  the  most  splendid  days  of  the  monarchy,  had  so 
many  crowned  heads  thronged  the  shores  of  the  Seine;  never 
had  the  French  aristocracy  been  so  rich  or  so  splendid.  The 
diamonds  lavishly  scattered  over  the  women's  dresses,  and  the 
gold  and  silver  embroidery  on  the  uniforms,  contrasted  so 
strongly  with  the  penury  of  the  Republic,  that  the  wealth  of 
the  globe  seemed  to  be  rolling  through  the  drawing  rooms  of 
Paris.  Intoxication  seemed  to  have  turned  the  brains  of  this 
Empire  of  a  day.  All  the  military,  not  excepting  their  chief, 
reveled  like  parvenus  in  the  treasure  conquered  for  them  by 
a  million  men  with  worsted  epaulettes,  whose  demands  were 
satisfied  by  a  few  yards  of  red  ribbon. 

At  this  time  most  women  affected  the  lightness  of  conduct 

and  facility  of  morals  whicla  distinguished  the  reign  of  Louis 

XV.     Whether  it  was  in   imitation  of  the  tone  of  the  fallen 

monarcliy,  or  because  certain  members  of  the  imperial  family 

21  (321) 


322  PEACE   IN    THE   HOUSE. 

had  set  the  example — as  certain  malcontents  of  the  Fau- 
bourg Saint-Germain  chose  to  say — it  is  certain  that  men 
and  women  alike  flung  themselves  into  a  life  of  pleasure  with 
an  intrepidity  and  a  courageous  turpitude  of  word  and 
deed  which  seemed  to  forbode  the  end  of  the  world.  But 
there  was  at  that  time  another  cause  for  such  license.  The 
infatuation  of  women  for  the  military  became  a  frenzy,  and 
was  too  consonant  to  the  Emperor's  views  for  him  to  try 
to  check  it.  The  frequent  calls  to  arms,  which  gave  every 
treaty  concluded  between  Napoleon  and  the  rest  of  Europe 
the  character  of  an  armistice,  left  every  passion  open  to  a 
termination  as  sudden  as  the  decisions  of  the  commander-in- 
chief  of  all  these  busbys,  pelisses,  and  aiguillettes,  which  so 
fascinated  the  fair  sex.  Hearts  were  as  nomadic  as  the  regi- 
ments. Between  the  first  and  the  fifth  bulletin  from  the 
Grande  Armee  a  woman  might  be  in  succession  mistress, 
wife,  mother,  and  widow. 

Was  it  the  prospect  of  early  widowhood,  the  hope  of  a 
jointure,  or  that  of  bearing  a  name  promised  to  history, 
which  made  the  soldiers  so  attractive?  Were  women  drawn 
to  them  by  the  certainty  that  the  secret  of  their  passions 
would  be  buried  on  the  field  of  battle?  or  may  we  find  the 
reason  of  this  gentle  fanaticism  in  the  noble  charm  that 
courage  has  for  a  woman  ?  Perliaps  all  these  reasons,  which 
the  future  historian  of  the  manners  of  the  Empire  will  no 
doubt  amuse  himself  by  weighing,  counted  for  something  in 
their  facile  readiness  to  abandon  themselves  to  love  intrigues. 
Be  that  as  it  may,  it  must  here  be  confessed  that  at  that  time 
laurels  hid  many  errors,  women  showed  an  ardent  preference 
for  the  brave  adventurers,  wliom  they  regarded  as  the  true 
font  of  honor,  wealth,  or  pleasure;  and  in  the  eyes  of  young 
girls,  an  epaulette — the  hieroglyphic  of  a  fiiture — signified 
happiness  and  liberty. 

One  feature,  and  a  characteristic  one,  of  this  unique  period 
in  our  history  was  an  unbridled  mania  for  everything  gHtter- 


PEACE   IN    THE   HOUSE.  323 

ing.  Never  were  fireworks  so  much  in  vogue,  never  were 
diamonds  so  highly  prized.  The  men,  as  greedy  as  the 
women  of  these  translucent  pebbles,  displayed  them  no  less 
lavishly.  Possibly  the  necessity  for  carrying  plunder  in  the 
most  portable  form  made  gems  the  fashion  in  the  army.  A 
man  was  not  ridiculous  then,  as  he  would  be  now,  if  his  shirt- 
frill  or  his  fingers  blazed  with  large  diamonds.  Murat,  an 
Oriental  by  nature,  set  the  example  of  preposterous  luxury  to 
modern  soldiers. 

The  Comte  de  Gondreville,  formerly  known  as  Citizen 
Malin,  whose  elevation  had  made  him  famous,  having  become 
a  Lucullus  of  the  Conservative  Senate,  which  "conserved" 
nothing,  had  postponed  an  entertainment  in  honor  of  the 
peace  only  that  he  might  the  better  pay  liis  court  to  Napoleon 
by  his  efforts  to  eclipse  those  flatterers  who  had  been  before- 
hand with  him.  The  ambassadors  from  all  the  powers  friendly 
with  France,  with  an  eye  to  favors  to  come,  the  most  import- 
ant personages  of  the  Empire,  and  even  a  few  princes,  were 
at  this  hour  assembled  in  the  wealthy  senator's  drawing- 
rooms.  Dancing  flagged ;  every  one  was  watching  for  the 
Emperor,  whose  presence  the  Count  had  promised  his  guests. 
And  Napoleon  would  have  kept  his  word  but  for  the  scene 
which  had  broken  out  that  very  evening  between  him  and 
Josephine — the  scene  which  portended  the  impending  divorce 
of  the  august  pair.  The  report  of  this  incident,  at  the  time 
kept  very  secret,  but  recorded  in  history,  did  not  reach  the 
ears  of  the  courtiers,  and  had  no  effect  on  the  gaiety  of  Comte 
de  Gondreville's  party  beyond  keeping  Napoleon  away. 

The  prettiest  women  in  Paris,  eager  to  be  at  the  Count's  on 
the  strength  of  mere  hearsay,  at  this  moment  were  a  besieging 
force  of  luxury,  coquettishness,  elegance,  and  beauty.  The 
financial  world,  proud  of  its  riches,  challenged  the  splendor 
of  the  generals  and  high  officials  of  the  Empire,  so  recently 
gorged  with  orders,  titles,  and  honors.  These  grand  balls 
were  always  an  opportunity  seized  upon  by  wealthy  families 


324  PEACE   IN  THE   HOUSE. 

for  introducing  their  heiresses  to  Napoleon's  Praetorian  Guard, 
in  the  foolish  hope  of  exchanging  their  splendid  fortunes  for 
uncertain  favors.  The  women  who  believed  themselves  strong 
enough  in  their  beauty  alone  came  to  test  their  power.  There, 
as  elsewhere,  amusement  was  but  a  blind.  Calm  and  smiling 
faces  and  placid  brows  covered  sordid  interests,  expressions 
of  friendship  were  a  lie,  and  more  than  one  man  was  less  dis- 
trustful of  his  enemies  than  of  his  friends. 

These  remarks  are  necessary  to  explain  the  incidents  of  the 
little  imbroglio  which  is  the  subject  of  this  study,  and  the 
picture,  softened  as  it  is,  of  the  tone  then  dominant  in  Paris 
drawing-rooms. 

"Turn  your  eyes  a  little  tov^^ards  the  pedestal  supporting 
that  candelabrum — do  you  see  a  young  lady  with  her  hair 
drawn  back  a  la  Chinoise?'^  There,  in  the  corner  to  the  left ; 
she  has  blue-bells  in  the  knot  of  chestnut  curls  which  fall  in 
clusters  on  her  head.  Do  you  not  see  her?  She  is  so  pale 
you  might  fancy  she  was  ill,  delicate-looking,  and  very  small  ; 
there — now  she  is  turning  her  head  this  way;  her  almond- 
shaped  blue  eyes,  so  delightfully  soft,  look  as  if  they  were 
made  expressly  for  tears.  Look,  look  !  She  is  bending  for- 
ward to  see  Madame  de  Vaudremont  below  the  crowd  of 
heads  in  constant  motion  ;  the  high  head-dresses  prevent  her 
having  a  clear  view." 

"  I  see  her  now,  my  dear  fellow.  You  had  only  to  say 
that  she  had  the  whitest  skin  of  all  the  women  here ;  I  should 
have  known  whom  you  meant.  I  had  noticed  her  before  ; 
she  has  the  loveliest  complexion  I  ever  admired.  From  hence 
I  defy  you  to  see  against  her  throat  the  pearls  between  the 
sapphires  of  her  necklace.  But  she  is  a  prude  or  a  coquette, 
for  the  tucker  of  her  bodice  scarcely  lets  one  suspect  the 
beauty  of  her  bust.     What  shoulders  !  what  lily-whiteness  !  " 

"  Who  is  she  ?  "  asked  the  first  speaker. 

"  Ah  !  that  I  do  not  know." 

*  In  tlic  (Chinese  style. 


PEACE    IN   '11  iE    HOUSE.  ^.25 

•'•Aristocrat  !  Do  you  want  to  keep  them  all  to  yourself, 
Monicornet  ?  " 

"  You  of  all  men  to  banter  me  !  "  replied  Montcornet,  with 
a  smile.  "  Do  you  think  you  have  a  right  to  insult  a  poor 
general  like  me  because,  being  a  happy  rival  of  Soulanges, 
you  cannot  even  turn  on  your  heel  without  alarming  Madame 
de  Vaudremont  ?  Or  is  it  because  I  came  only  a  month  ago 
into  the  promised  land  ?  How  insolent  you  can  be,  you  men 
in  office,  who  sit  glued  to  your  chairs  while  we  are  dodging 
shot  and  shell !  Come,  Monsieur  le  Maitre  des  Requetes, 
allow  us  to  glean  in  the  field  of  which  you  can  only  have  pre- 
carious possession  from  the  moment  when  we  evacuate  it. 
The  deuce  is  in  it.  We  have  all  a  right  to  live  !  My  good 
friend,  if  you  knew  the  German  women,  you  would,  I  believe, 
do  me  a  good  turn  with  the  Parisian  you  love  best." 

'•  \Vell,  general,  since  you  have  vouchsafed  to  turn  your 
attention  to  that  lady,  whom  I  never  saw  till  now,  have  the 
charity  to  tell  me  if  you  have  seen  her  dance." 

"Why,  my  dear  Martial,  where  have  you  dropped  from? 
If  you  are  ever  sent  with  an  embassy,  I  have  small  hopes  of 
your  success.  Do  you  not  see  a  triple  rank  of  the  most  un- 
daunted coquettes  of  Paris  between  her  and  the  swarm  of 
dancing  men  that  buzz  under  the  chandelier  ?  And  was  it 
not  only  by  the  help  of  your  eyeglass  that  you  were  ''.ole  to 
discover  her  at  all  in  the  corner  by  that  pillar,  where  she 
seems  buried  in  the  gloom,  in  spite  of  the  candles  blazing 
above  her  head  ?  Between  her  and  us  there  is  such  a  sparkle 
of  diamonds  and  glances,  so  many  floating  plumes,  such  a 
flutter  of  lace,  of  flowers  and  curls,  that  it  would  be  a  real 
miracle  if  any  dancer  could  detect  her  among  those  stars. 
Why,  Martial,  how  is  it  that  you  have  not  understood  her  to 
be  the  wife  of  some  little  officer  from  Lippe  or  Dyle,  who  has 
come  to  try  to  get  her  husband  promoted?  " 

"  Oh,  he  will  be  !  "  exclaimed  the  master  of  appeals  quickly. 

"I  doubt  it,"  replied  the  colonel  of  cuirassiers,  laughing. 


326  PEACE  IN  THE   HOUSE. 

"She  seems  as  raw  in  intrigue  as  you  are  in  diplomacy.  I 
dare  bet,  Martial,  that  you  do  not  know  how  she  got  into 
that  place." 

The  lawyer  looked  at  the  colonel  of  cuirassiers  with  an  ex- 
pression as  much  of  contempt  as  of  curiosity. 

"Well,"  proceeded  Montcornet,  "she  arrived,  I  have  no 
doubt,  punctually  at  nine,  the  first  of  the  company  perhaps, 
and  probably  she  greatly  embarrassed  the  Comtesse  de  Gon- 
dreville,  who  cannot  put  two  ideas  together.  Repulsed  by 
the  mistress  of  the  house,  routed  from  chair  to  chair  by  each 
new-comer,  and  driven  into  the  darkness  of  this  little  corner, 
she  allowed  herself  to  be  walled  in,  the  victim  of  the  jealousy 
of  the  other  ladies,  who  would  gladly  have  buried  that  danger- 
ous beauty.  She  had,  of  course,  no  friend  to  encourage  her 
to  maintain  the  place  she  first  held  in  the  front  rank  ;  then 
each  of  those  treacherous  fair  ones  would  have  enjoined  on 
the  men  of  her  circle  on  no  account  to  take  out  our  poor 
friend,  under  pain  of  the  severest  punishment.  That,  my 
dear  fellow,  is  the  way  in  which  those  sweet  faces,  in  appear- 
ance so  tender  and  so  artless,  would  have  formed  a  coalition 
against  the  stranger,  and  that  without  a  word  beyond  the 
question,  '  Tell  me,  dear,  do  you  know  that  little  woman  in 
blue  ? '  Look  here,  Martial,  if  you  care  to  run  the  gauntlet 
of  more  flattering  glances  and  inviting  questions  than  you  will 
ever  again  meet  in  the  whole  of  your  life,  just  try  to  get 
through  the  triple  rampart  which  defends  that  Queen  of  Dyle, 
or  Lippe,  or  Charente.  You  will  see  whether  the  dullest 
woman  of  them  all  will  not  be  equal  to  inventing  some  wile 
that  would  hinder  the  most  determined  man  from  bringing 
the  plaintive  stranger  to  the  light.  Does  it  not  strike  you 
that  she  looks  like  an  elegy?  " 

"  Do  you  think  so,  Montcornet?  Then  she  must  be  a  mar- 
ried woman  ?  ' ' 

"  Why  not  a  widow?  " 

"She  would  be  less  passive,"  said  the  lawyer,  laughing. 


PEACE  L\    THE   HOUSE.  327 

"She  is  perhaps  the  widow  of  a  man  who  is  gambling," 
replied  the  handsome  colonel. 

"To  be  sure;  since  the  peace  there  are  so  many  widows 
of  that  class  !  "  said  Martial.  "  But,  my  dear  Montcornet, 
we  are  a  couple  of  simpletons.  That  face  is  still  too  ingenu- 
ous, there  is  too  much  youth  and  freshness  on  the  brow  and 
temples  for  her  to  be  married.  What  splendid  flesh-tints  ! 
Nothing  has  sunk  in  the  modeling  of  the  nose.  Lips,  chin, 
everything  in  her  face  is  as  fresh  as  a  white  rosebud,  though 
the  expression  is  veiled,  as  it  were,  by  the  clouds  of  sadness. 
Who  can  it  be  that  makes  that  young  creature  weep  ?  " 

"Women  cry  for  so  little,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Martial ;  "  but  she  does  not  cry 
because  she  is  left  there  without  a  partner ;  her  grief  is  not 
of  to-day.  It  is  evident  that  she  has  beautified  herself  for 
this  evening  with  intention.  I  would  wager  that  she  is  in 
love  already." 

"  Bah  !  She  is  perhaps  the  daughter  of  some  German 
princeling;  no  one  talks  to  her,"  said  Montcornet. 

"  Dear  !  how  unhappy  a  poor  child  may  be  !  "  Martial 
went  on.  "  Can  there  be  anything  more  graceful  and  re- 
fined than  our  little  stranger?  Well,  not  one  of  those  furies 
who  stand  round  her,  and  who  believe  that  they  can  feel,  will 
say  a  word  to  her.  If  she  would  but  speak,  we  should  see  if 
she  has  fine  teeth." 

"  Bless  me,  you  boil  over  like  milk  at  the  least  increase  of 
temperature?"  cried  the  colonel,  a  little  nettled  at  so  soon 
finding  a  rival  in  liis  friend. 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  lawyer,  without  heeding  the 
general's  question.  "  Can  nobody  here  tell  us  the  name  of 
this  exotic  flower?  " 

"  Some  lady  companion  !  "  said  Montcornet. 

"What  next?  A  companion  !  wearing  sapphires  fit  for  a 
queen,  and  a  dress  of  Malines  lace?  Tell  that  to  the  marines, 
general.     You,  too,  would  not  shine  in  diplomacy  if,  in  the 


328  PEACE   /A'   THE   HOUSE. 

course  of  your  conjectures,  you  jump  in  a  breath  from  a  Ger- 
man princess  to  a  lady  companion." 

Montcornet  stopped  a  man  by  taking  his  arm — a  fat  Httle 
man,  whose  iron-gray  liair  and  clever  eyes  were  to  be  seen 
at  the  lintel  of  every  doorway,  and  who  mingled  uncer- 
emoniously with  the  various  groups  which  welcomed  him 
respectfully. 

"  Gondreville,  my  friend,"  asked  Montcornet,  "  who  is  that 
quite  charming  little  woman  sitting  out  there  under  that 
huge  candelabrum?" 

"The  candelabrum?  Ravrio's  work;  Isabey  made  the 
design." 

''  Oh,  I  recognized  your  lavishness  and  taste ;  but  the 
lady?" 

"  Ah  !  I  do  not  know.  Some  friend  of  my  wife's,  no 
doubt." 

"  Or  your  mistress,  you  old  rascal  ?  " 

"No,  on  my  honor.  The  Comtesse  de  Gondreville  is 
the  only  person  capable  of  inviting  people  whom  no  one 
knows." 

In  spite  of  this  very  acrimonious  comment,  the  fat  little 
man's  lips  did  not  lose  the  smile  which  the  colonel's  sugges- 
tion had  brought  to  them.  Montcornet  returned  to  the 
lawyer,  who  had  joined  a  neighboring  group,  intent  on 
asking,  but  in  vain,  for  information  as  to  the  fair  unknown. 
He  grasped  Martial's  arm,  and  said  in  his  ear — 

"  My  dear  Martial,  mind  what  you  are  about.  Madame 
de  Vaudremont  has  been  watching  you  for  some  minutes  with 
ominous  attentiveness ;  she  is  a  woman  who  can  guess  by  the 
mere  movement  of  your  lips  what  you  say  to  me;  our 
eyes  have  already  told  her  too  much  ;  she  has  perceived 
and  followed  their  direction,  and  I  suspect  that  at  this 
moment  she  is  thinking  even  more  than  we  are  of  the  little 
blue  lady." 

"That  is  too  old  a  trick  in  warfare,  my  dear  Montcornet ! 


PEACE   IN   THE  HOUSE.  329 

However,  what  do  I  care  ?  Like  ihe  Emperor,  when  I  have 
made  a  conquest,  I  keep  it." 

"  Martial,  your  fatuity  cries  out  for  a  lesson.  What  !  you 
a  civilian,  and  so  lucky  as  to  be  the  husband-designate  of 
Madame  de  Vaudremont,  a  widow  of  two-and-twenty,  bur- 
thened  with  four  thousand  napoleons  a  year — a  woman  who 
slips  such  a  diamond  as  this  on  your  finger,"  he  added,  taking 
the  lawyers  left  hand,  which  the  young  man  complacently 
allowed;  "and,  to  crown  all,  you  affect  the  Lovelace,  just  as 
if  you  were  a  colonel  and  obliged  to  keep  up  the  reputation 
of  the  military  in  home  quarters  !  Fie,  fie  !  Only  think  of 
all  you  may  lose. ' ' 

"At  any  rate,  I  shall  not  lose  my  liberty,"  replied  Martial, 
with  a  forced  laugh. 

He  cast  a  passionate  glance  at  Madame  de  Vaudremont, 
who  responded  only  by  a  smile  of  some  uneasiness,  for  she 
had  seen  the  colonel  examining  the  lawyer's  ring. 

"  Listen  to  me.  Martial.  If  you  flutter  round  my  young 
stranger,  I  shall  set  to  work  to  win  Madame  de  Vaudre- 
mont." 

"  You  have  my  full  permission,  my  dear  Cuirassier,  but 
you  will  not  gain  this  much,"  and  the  young  Maitre  des  Re- 
quetes  put  his  polished  thumb-nail  under  an  upper  tooth  with 
a  little  mocking  click. 

"  Remember  that  I  am  unmarried,"  said  the  colonel ;  "  that 
my  sword  is  my  whole  fortune  ;  and  that  such  a  challenge 
is  setting  Tantalus  down  to  a  banquet  which  he  will  de- 
vour." 

"Prrr." 

This  defiant  roll  of  consonants  was  the  only  reply  to  the 
general's  declaration,  as  Martial  looked  him  from  head  to  foot 
before  turning  away. 

The  fashion  of  the  time  required  men  to  wear  at  a  ball 
white  kerseymere  breeches  and  silk  stockings.  This  pretty 
costume  showed  to  great  advantage  the  perfection  of  Mont- 


330  PEACE   LV   THE   HOUSE. 

cornet's  fine  shape.  He  was  five-and-ihuty,  and  attracted 
attention  by  his  stalwart  height,  insisted  on  for  the  cuirassiers 
of  the  Imperial  Guard,  whose  handsome  uniform  enhanced 
the  dignity  of  his  figure,  still  youthful  in  spite  of  the  stout- 
ness occasioned  by  living  on  horseback.  A  black  mustache 
emphasized  the  frank  expression  of  a  thoroughly  soldierly 
countenance,  with  a  broad,  high  forehead,  an  aquiline  nose, 
and  bright  red  lips.  Montcornet's  manner,  stamped  with  a 
certain  superiority  due  to  the  habit  of  command,  might  please 
a  woman  sensible  enough  not  to  aim  at  making  a  slave  of  her 
husband.  The  colonel  smiled  as  he  looked  at  the  lawyer,  one 
of  his  favorite  and  most  esteemed  college  friends,  whose  small 
though  well-built  figure  made  it  necessary  for  Montcornet 
to  look  down  a  little  as  he  answered  his  raillery  with  a  friendly 
glance. 

Baron  Martial  de  la  Roche-Hugon  was  a  young  Provencal 
patronized  by  Napoleon  ;  his  fate  might  probably  be  some 
splendid  embassy.  He  had  won  the  Emperor  by  his  Italian 
suppleness  and  a  genius  for  intrigue,  a  drawing-room  eloquence, 
and  a  knowledge  of  manners,  which  are  so  good  a  substitute 
for  the  higher  qualities  of  a  sterling  man.  Though  young 
and  eager,  his  face  had  already  acquired  the  rigid  brilliancy 
of  tinned  iron,  one  of  the  indispensable  characteristics  of 
diplomatists,  which  allows  them  to  conceal  their  emotions 
and  disguise  their  feelings,  unless,  indeed,  this  impassibility 
indicates  an  absence  of  all  emotion  and  the  death  of  every 
feeling.  The  heart  of  a  diplomat  may  be  regarded  as  an  in- 
soluble problem,  for  the  three  most  illustrious  ambassadors  of 
die  time  have  been  distinguised  by  perdurable  hatreds  and 
most  romantic  attachments. 

Martial,  however,  was  one  of  those  men  who  are  capable 
of  reckoning  on  tlie  future  in  the  midst  of  their  intensest 
enjoyment ;  he  had  already  learned  to  judge  the  world,  and 
hid  his  ambition  under  the  fatuity  of  a  lady-killer,  cloaking 
his  talent  under  the  commonplace  of  mediocrity  as  soon  as 


PEACE    L\    THE    HOUSE.  331 

he  observed  the  rapid  advancement  ot"  those  men  who  gave  ilie 
Master  little  umbrage. 

The  two  friends  now  had  to  part  with  a  cordial  grasp  of 
hands.  The  introductory  tune,  warning  the  ladies  to  form  in 
squares  for  a  fresh  quadrille,  cleared  the  men  away  from  the 
space  they  had  filled  while  talking  in  the  middle  of  the  large 
room.  This  hurried  dialogue  had  taken  place  during  the 
usual  interval  between  two  dances,  in  front  of  the  fireplace  of 
the  great  drawing-room  of  Gondreville's  mansion.  The  ques- 
tions and  answers  of  this  very  ordinary  ball-room  gossip  had 
been  almost  whispered  by  each  of  the  speakers  into  his  neigh- 
bor's ear.  At  the  same  time,  the  chandeliers  and  the  flam- 
beaux on  the  chimney-shelf  shed  such  a  flood  of  light  on  the 
two  friends  that  their  faces,  strongly  illuminated,  failed,  in 
spite  of  their  diplomatic  discretion,  to  conceal  the  faint  ex- 
pression of  their  feelings  either  from  the  keen-sighted  Coun- 
ters or  from  the  artless  stranger.  This  espionage  of  people's 
thoughts  is  perhaps  to  idle  persons  one  of  the  pleasures  they 
find  in  society,  while  numbers  of  disappointed  numskulls  are 
bored  there  without  daring  to  own  it. 

Fully  to  appreciate  the  interest  of  this  conversation,  it  is 
necessary  to  relate  an  incident  which  would  presently  serve  as 
an  invisible  bond,  drawing  together  the  actors  in  this  little 
drama,  who  were  at  present  scattered  through  the  rooms. 

At  about  eleven  o'clock,  just  as  the  dancers  were  returning 
to  their  seats,  the  company  had  observed  the  entrance  of  the 
handsomest  woman  in  Paris,  the  queen  of  fashion,  the  only 
person  wanting  to  this  brilliant  assembly.  She  made  it  a  rule 
never  to  appear  till  the  moment  when  a  party  had  reached  that 
pitch  of  excited  movement  which  does  not  allow  the  women 
to  preserve  much  longer  the  freshness  of  their  faces  or  of  their 
dress.  This  brief  hour  is,  as  it  were,  the  springtime  of  a  ball. 
An  hour  after,  when  pleasure  falls  flat  and  fatigue  is  encroach- 
ing, everything   is   spoilt.     Madame   de  Vaudremont    never 


332  PEACE   IX    THE   HOUSE. 

committed  the  blunder  of  remaining  at  a  party  to  be  seen 
with  drooping  flowers,  hair  out  of  curl,  tumbled  frills,  and  a 
face  like  every  other  that  sleep  is  courting — not  always  with- 
out success.  She  took  good  care  not  let  her  beauty  be  seen 
drowsy,  as  her  rivals  did  ;  she  was  so  clever  as  to  keep  up  her 
reputation  for  smartness  by  always  leaving  a  ball-room  in  bril- 
liant order,  as  she  had  entered  it.  Women  whispered  to  each 
other  with  a  feeling  of  envy  that  she  planned  and  wore  as 
many  different  dresses  as  the  parties  she  went  to  in  one  even- 
ing. 

On  the  present  occasion  Madame  de  Vaudremont  was  not 
destined  to  be  free  to  leave  when  she  would  the  ball-room  she 
had  entered  in  triumph.  Pausing  for  a  moment  on  the 
threshold,  she  shot  swift  but  observant  glances  on  the  women 
present,  hastily  scrutinizing  their  dresses  to  assure  herself  that 
her  own  eclipsed  them  all. 

The  illustrious  beauty  presented  herself  to  the  admiration 
of  the  crowd  at  the  same  moment  with  one  of  the  bravest 
colonels  of  the  Guards'  Artillery  and  the  Emperor's  favorite, 
the  Comte  de  Soulanges.  The  transient  and  fortuitous  asso- 
ciation of  these  two  had  about  it  a  certain  air  of  mystery.  On 
hearing  the  names  announced  of  Monsieur  de  Soulanges  and 
the  Comtesse  de  Vaudremont,  a  few  women  sitting  by  the  wall 
rose,  and  men,  hurrying  in  from  the  side-rooms,  pressed  for- 
ward to  tlie  principal  doorway.  One  of  the  jesters  who  are 
always  to  be  found  in  any  large  assembly  said,  as  the  Countess 
and  her  escort  came  in,  that  "  women  had  quite  as  much 
curiosity  about  seeing  a  man  who  was  faithful  to  his  passion 
as  men  had  in  studying  a  woman  who  was  difficult  to  en- 
thrall." 

Though  the  Comte  de  Soulanges,  a  young  man  of  about 
two-and-thirty,  was  endowed  with  the  nervous  temperament 
which  in  a  man  gives  rise  to  fine  qualities,  his  slender  build 
and  pale  complexion  were  not  at  first  sight  attractive  ;  his 
black  eyes  betrayed  great  vivacity,  but  he  was  taciturn  in  com- 


PEACE   IN   THE   HOUSE.  333 

pany,  and  there  was  nothing  in  his  appearance  to  reveal  the 
gift  for  oratory  which  subsequently  distinguished  him,  on  the 
right,  in  the  legislative  assembly  under  the  Restoration. 

The  Comtesse  de  Vaudremont,  a  tall  woman,  rather  fat, 
with  a  skin  of  dazzling  whiteness,  a  small  head  that  she  carried 
well,  and  the  immense  advantage  of  inspiring  love  by  the 
graciousness  of  her  manner,  was  one  of  those  beings  who  keep 
all  the  promise  of  their  beauty. 

The  pair,  who  for  a  few  minutes  were  the  centre  of  general 
observation,  did  not  for  long  give  curiosity  an  opportunity  of 
exercising  itself  about  them.  The  colonel  and  the  Countess 
seemed  perfectly  to  understand  that  accident  had  placed  them 
in  an  awkward  position.  Martial,  as  they  came  forward,  had 
hastened  to  join  the  group  of  men  by  the  fireplace,  that  he 
might  watch  Madame  de  Vaudremont  with  the  jealous  anxiety 
of  the  first  flame  of  passion,  from  behind  the  heads  which 
formed  a  sort  of  rampart ;  a  secret  voice  seemed  to  warn  him 
that  the  success  on  which  he  prided  himself  might  perhaps  be 
precarious.  But  the  coldly  polite  smile  with  which  the 
Countess  thanked  Monsieur  de  Soulanges,  and  her  little  bow 
of  dismissal  as  she  sat  down  by  Madame  de  Gondreville,  re- 
laxed the  muscles  of  his  face  which  jealousy  had  made  rigid. 
Seeing  Soulanges,  however,  still  standing  quite  near  the  sofa 
on  which  Madame  de  Vaudremont  was  seated,  not  apparently 
having  understood  the  glance  by  which  the  lady  had  con- 
veyed to  him  that  they  were  both  playing  a  ridiculous  part, 
the  volcanic  Provencal  again  knit  the  black  brows  that  over- 
shadowed his  blue  eyes,  smoothed  his  chestnut  curls  to  keep 
himself  in  countenance,  and  without  betraying  the  agitation 
which  made  his  heart  beat,  watched  the  faces  of  the  Countess 
and  of  Monsieur  de  Soulanges  while  still  chatting  with  his 
neighbors.  He  then  took  the  hand  of  Colonel  Montcornet, 
who  had  just  renewed  tlieir  old  acquaintance,  but  he  listened 
to  him  without  hearing  him  ;   his  mind  was  elsewhere. 

Soulanges  was  gazing  calmly  at  the  women,  sitting   four 


334  PEACE   IN   THE   HOUSE. 

ranks  deep  all  round  the  immense  ball-room,  admiring  this 
dado  of  diamonds,  rubies,  masses  of  gold  and  shining  hair, 
of  which  the  lustre  almost  outshone  the  blaze  of  wax-lights, 
the  cut-glass  of  the  chandeliers,  and  the  gilding.  His  rival's 
stolid  indifference  put  the  lawyer  out  of  countenance.  Quite 
incapable  of  controlling  his  secret  transports  of  impatience. 
Martial  went  towards  Madame  de  Vaudremont  with  a  bow. 
On  seeing  the  Provencal,  Soulanges  gave  him  a  covert  glance, 
and  impertinently  turned  away  his  head.  Solemn  silence 
now  reigned  in  the  room,  where  curiosity  was  at  the  highest 
pitch.  All  these  eager  faces  wore  the  strangest  mixed  expres- 
sions ;  every  one  apprehended  one  of  those  outbreaks  which 
men  of  breeding  carefully  avoid.  Suddenly  the  Count's  pale 
face  turned  as  red  as  the  scarlet  facings  of  his  coat,  and 
he  fixed  his  gaze  on  the  floor  that  the  cause  of  his  agitation 
might  not  be  guessed.  On  catching  sight  of  the  unknown 
lady  humbly  seated  by  the  pedestal  of  the  candelabrum,  he 
moved  away  with  a  melancholy  air,  passing  in  front  of  the 
lawyer,  and  took  refuge  in  one  of  the  card-rooms.  Martial 
and  all  the  company  thought  that  Soulanges  had  publicly  sur- 
rendered the  post,  out  of  fear  of  the  ridicule  which  invariably 
attaches  to  a  discarded  lover.  The  lawyer  proudly  raised  his 
head  and  looked  at  the  strange  lady  ;  then,  as  he  took  his 
seat  at  his  ease  near  Madame  de  Vaudremont,  he  listened  to 
her  so  inattentively  that  he  did  not  catch  these  words  spoken 
behind  her  fan — 

"  Martial,  you  will  oblige  me  this  evening  by  not  wearing 
that  ring  that  you  snatched  from  me.  I  have  my  reasons, 
and  will  explain  them  to  you  in  a  moment  when  we  go  away. 
You  must  give  me  your  arm  to  go  to  the  Princesse  de 
Wagram's." 

''Why  did  you  come  in  with  the  colonel?"  asked  the 
Baron. 

"I  met  him  in  the  hall,"  she  replied.  "But  leave  me 
now  ;  everybody  is  looking  at  us." 


PEACE   E\   THE   HOUSE.  335 

Martial  returned  to  the  colonel  of  cuirassiers.  Then  it  was 
that  the  little  blue  lady  had  become  the  object  of  the  curi- 
osity which  agitated  in  such  various  ways  tiie  colonel,  Sou- 
langes,  Martial,  and  Madame  de  Vaudremont. 

When  the  friends  parted,  after  the  challenge  which  closed 
their  conversation,  the  Baron  flew  to  Madame  de  Vaudremont, 
and  led  her  to  a  place  in  the  most  brilliant  quadrille. 
Favored  by  the  sort  of  intoxication  which  dancing  always 
produces  in  a  woman,  and  by  the  turmoil  of  a  ball,  where 
men  appear  in  all  the  trickery  of  dress,  which  adds  no  less  to 
their  attractions  than  it  does  to  those  of  women,  Martial 
thought  he  might  yield  with  impunity  to  the  charm  that 
attracted  his  gaze  to  the  fair  stranger.  Though  he  suc- 
ceeded in  hiding  his  first  glances  towards  the  lady  in  blue 
from  the  anxious  activity  of  the  Countess'  eyes,  he  was  ere 
long  caught  in  the  act ;  and  though  he  managed  to  excuse 
himself  once  for  his  absence  of  mind,  he  could  not  justify  the 
unseemly  silence  with  which  he  presently  heard  the  most  in- 
sinuating question  which  a  woman  can  put  to  a  man — 

"  Do  you  like  me  very  much  this  evening  ?  " 

And  the  more  dreamy  he  became,  the  more  the  Countess 
pressed  and  teased  him. 

While  Martial  was  dancing,  the  colonel  moved  from  group 
to  group,  seeking  information  about  the  unknown  lady. 
After  exhausting  the  good-humor  even  of  the  most  indifferent, 
he  had  resolved  to  take  advantage  of  a  moment  when  the 
Comtesse  de  Gondreville  seemed  to  be  at  liberty,  to  ask  her 
the  name  of  the  mysterious  lady,  when  he  perceived  a  little 
space  left  clear  between  the  pedestal  of  the  candelabrum  and 
the  two  sofas  which  ended  in  that  corner.  The  dance  had 
left  several  of  the  chairs  vacant,  which  formed  rows  of  forti- 
fications held  by  mothers  or  women  of  middle  age  ;  and  the 
colonel  seized  the  opportunity  to  make  his  way  through  this 
palisade  hung  with  shawls  and  wraps.  He  began  by  making 
himself  agreeable  to  the  dowagers,  and  so  from  one  to  another. 


336  PEACE   IN   THE  HOUSE. 

and  from  compliment  to  compliment,  he  at  last  reached  tlie 
empty  space  next  the  stranger.  At  the  risk  of  catching  on  to 
the  gryphons  and  chimeras  of  the  huge  candelabrum,  he 
stood  there,  braving  the  glare  and  dropping  of  the  wax- 
candles,  to  Martial's  extreme  annoyance. 

The  colonel,  far  too  tactful  to  speak  suddenly  to  the  little 
blue  lady  on  his  right,  began  by  saying  to  a  plain  woman  who 
was  seated  on  the  left — 

"  This  is  a  splendid  ball,  madame  !  What  luxury  !  What 
life  !  On  my  word,  every  woman  here  is  pretty!  You  are 
not  dancing — because  you  do  not  care  for  it,  no  doubt." 

This  vapid  conversation  was  solely  intended  to  induce  his 
right-hand  neighbor  to  speak  \  but  she,  silent  and  absent- 
minded,  paid  not  the  least  attention.  The  officer  had  in 
store  a  number  of  phrases  which  he  intended  should  lead  up 
to  :  "And  you,  madame?"  a  question  from  which  he  hoped 
great  things.  But  he  was  strangely  surprised  to  see  tears  in 
the  strange  lady's  eyes,  which  seemed  wholly  absorbed  in 
gazing  on  Madame  de  Vaudremont. 

"  You  are  married,  no  doubt,  madame?"  he  asked  her  at 
length,  in  hesitating  tones. 

"Yes,  monsieur,"  replied  the  lady. 

"  And  your  husband  is  here,  of  course  ?  " 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

"  And  why,  madame,  do  you  remain  in  this  spot?  Is  it  to 
attract  attention  ?" 

The  mournful  lady  smiled  sadly. 

"Allow  me  the  honor,  madame,  of  being  your  partner  in 
tlie  next  quadrille,  and  I  will  take  care  not  to  bring  you  back 
here.  I  see  a  vacant  settee  near  the  fire  \  come  and  take  it. 
When  so  many  people  arc  ready  to  ascend  the  throne,  and 
royalty  is  the  mania  of  the  day,  I  cannot  imagine  that  you 
will  refuse  the  title  of  Queen  of  the  Ball  which  your  beauty 
may  claim." 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  dance,  monsieur." 


PEACE   IN  THE   HOUSE.  337 

The  curt  tone  of  the  lady's  replies  was  so  discouraging 
that  the  colonel  found  himself  compelled  to  raise  the  siege. 
Martial,  who  guessed  what  the  officer's  last  request  had  been, 
and  the  refusal  he  had  met  with,  began  to  smile,  and  stroked 
his  chin,  making  the  diamond  sparkle  which  he  wore  on  his 
finger. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  said  the  Comtesse  de  Vau- 
dremont. 

"At  the  failure  of  the  poor  colonel,  who  has  just  put  his 
foot  in  it " 

"  I  begged  you  to  take  your  ring  off,"  said  the  Countess, 
interrupting  him. 

"  I  did  not  hear  you." 

"  If  you  can  hear  nothing  this  evening,  at  any  rate  you  see 
everything.  Monsieur  le  Baron,"  said  Madame  de  Vaudre- 
mont,  with  an  air  of  vexation. 

"That  young  man  is  displaying  a  very  fine  diamond,"  the 
stranger  remarked  to  the  colonel. 

"Splendid,"  he  replied.  "  The  man  is  the  Baron  Martial 
de  la  Roche-Hugon,  one  of  my  most  intimate  friends." 

"  I  have  to  thank  you  for  telling  me  his  name,"  she  went 
on  ;   "he  seems  an  agreeable  man." 

"Yes,  but  he  is  rather  fickle." 

"  He  seems  to  be  on  the  best  terms  with  the  Comtesse  de 
Vaudremont?"  said  the  lady,  with  an  inquiring  look  at  the 
colonel." 

"On  the  very  best." 

The  unknown  turned  pale. 

"  Halloo  !  "  thought  the  soldier,  "  she  is  in  love  with  that 
lucky  devil  Martial." 

"I  fancied  that  Madame  de  Vaudremont  had  long  been 
devoted  to  Monsieur  de  Soulanges,"  said  the  lady,  recovering 
a  little  from  the  suppressed  grief  which  had  clouded  the  fair- 
ness of  her  face. 

"  For  a  week  past  the  Countess  has  been  faithless,"  replied 


338  PEACE  IN  THE  HOUSE. 

the  colonel.     *'  But  you  must  have  seen  poor  Soulanges  when 
he  came  in  ;  he  is  still  trying  to  disbelieve  in  his  disaster." 

"Yes,  I  saw  him,"  said  the  lady.  Then  she  added, 
"Thank  you  very  much,  monsieur,"  in  a  tone  which  signified 
a  dismissal. 

At  this  moment  the  quadrille  was  coming  to  an  end. 
Montcornet  had  only  time  to  withdraw,  saying  to  himself  by 
way  of  consolation,  "  She  is  married." 

"Well,  valiant  Cuirassier,"  exclaimed  the  Baron,  drawing 
the  colonel  aside  into  a  window-bay  to  breathe  the  fresh  air 
from  the  garden,  "  how  are  you  getting  on?  " 
"  She  is  a  married  woman,  my  dear  fellow." 
"What  does  that  matter?" 

"  Oh,  deuce  take  it !  I  am  a  decent  sort  of  man,"  replied 
the  colonel.  "I  have  no  idea  of  paying  my  addresses  to  a 
woman  I  cannot  marry.  Besides,  Martial,  she  expressly  told 
me  that  she  did  not  intend  to  dance." 

"  Colonel,  I  will  bet  a  hundred  napoleons  to  your  gray 
horse  that  she  will  dance  with  me  this  evening." 

"Done!  "  said  the  colonel,  putting  his  hand  in  the  cox- 
comb's. "  Meanwhile  I  am  going  to  look  for  Soulanges;  lie 
perhaps  knows  the  lady,  as  she  seems  interested  in  him." 

"  You  have  lost,  my  good  fellow,"  cried  Martial,  laughing. 
"  My  eyes  have  met  hers,  and  I  know  what  they  mean.  My 
dear  friend,  you  owe  me  no  grudge  for  dancing  with  her  after 
she  has  refused  you  ?  " 

"  No,  no.  Those  who  laugh  last,  laugh  longest.  But  I  am 
an  honest  gambler  and  a  generous  enemy.  Martial,  and  I  warn 
you,  she  is  fond  of  diamonds." 

With  these  words  the  friends  parted  ;  General  Montcornet 
made  his  way  to  the  card-room,  where  he  saw  the  Comte  de 
Soulanges  sitting  at  a  houillotte  table.  Though  there  was  no 
friendship  between  the  two  soldiers,  beyond  the  superficial 
comradeship  arising  from  the  perils  of  war  and  the  duties  of 
the  service,  the  colonel  of  cuirassiers  was  painfully  struck  by 


PEACE   IN   THE  HOUSE.  3.'^9 

seeing  the  colonel  of  artillery,  whom  he  knew  to  be  a  prudent 
man,  playing  at  a  game  which  might  bring  him  to  ruin.  The 
heaps  of  gold  and  notes  piled  on  the  fateful  cards  showed  the 
frenzy  of  play.  A  circle  of  silent  men  stood  round  the  players 
at  the  table.  Now  and  then  a  few  words  were  spoken— /ajj 
play,  I  stop,  a  thousand  louis,  taken — but,  looking  at  the  five 
motionless  men,  it  seemed  as  though  they  talked  only  with 
their  eyes.  As  the  colonel,  alarmed  by  Soulanges'  pallor, 
went  up  to  him,  the  Count  was  winning.  Field-marshal  the 
Due  d'Isemberg,  Keller,  and  a  famous  banker  rose  from  the 
table  completely  cleaned  out  of  considerable  sums.  Soulanges 
looked  gloomier  than  ever  as  he  swept  up  a  quantity  of  gold 
and  notes  ;  he  did  not  even  count  it ;  his  lips  curled  with 
bitter  scorn,  he  seemed  to  defy  fortune  rather  than  be  grateful 
for  her  favors. 

"Courage,"  said  the  colonel.  "Courage,  Soulanges!" 
Then,  believing  he  would  do  him  a  service  by  dragging  him 
from  play,  he  added :  "  Come  with  me.  I  have  some  good 
news  for  you,  but  on  one  condition." 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Soulanges. 

"  That  you  will  answer  a  question  I  will  ask  you." 

The  Comte  de  Soulanges  rose  abruptly,  placing  his  win- 
nings with  reckless  indifference  in  his  handkerchief,  which  he 
had  been  twisting  with  convulsive  nervousness,  and  his  expres- 
sion was  so  savage  that  none  of  the  players  took  exception  to 
his  walking  off  with  their  money.  Indeed,  every  face  seemed 
to  dilate  with  relief  when  his  morose  and  crabbed  countenance 
was  no  longer  to  be  seen  under  the  circle  of  light  which  a 
shaded  lamp  casts  on  a  gaming  table. 

"  Those  fiends  of  soldiers  are  always  as  thick  as  thieves  at 
a  fair!"  said  a  diplomat  who  had  been  looking  on,  as  he 
took  Soulanges'  place.  One  single  pallid  and  fatigued  face 
turned  to  the  new-comer,  and  said  with  a  glance  that  flashed 
and  died  out  like  the  sparkle  of  a  diamond  :  "  When  we  say 
militarv  we  do  not  rqean  civil.  Monsieur  le  Ministre." 


340  PEACE   IN  THE   HOUSE. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  Montcornet  to  Soulanges,  leading 
him  into  a  corner,  "  the  Emperor  spoke  warmly  in  your  praise 
this  morning  and  your  promotion  to  be  field-marshal  is  a  cer- 
tainty." 

"  The  Master  does  not  love  the  artillery." 

"  No,  but  he  adores  the  nobility,  ahd  you  are  an  aristocrat. 
The  Master  said,"  added  Montcornet,  "  that  the  men  who 
had  married  in  Paris  during  the  campaign  were  not  therefore 
to  be  considered  in  disgrace.      Well,  then  ?  " 

The  Comte  de  Soulanges  looked  as  if  he  understood  noth- 
ing of  this  speech. 

"And  now  I  hope,"  the  colonel  went  on,  "that  you  will 
tell  me  if  you  know  a  charming  little  woman  who  is  sitting 
under  a  huge  candelabrum ' ' 

At  these  words  the  Count's  face  lighted  up ;  he  violently 
seized  the  colonel's  hand  :  "  My  dear  colonel,"  said  he,  in  a 
perceptibly  altered  voice,  "  if  any  man  but  you  had  asked  me 
such  a  question,  I  would  have  cracked  his  skull  with  this  mass 
of  gold.     Leave  me,  I  entreat  you.     I  feel  more  like  blowing 

out  my  brains  this  evening,  I  assure  you,  than I  hate 

everything  I  see.  And,  in  fact,  I  am  going.  This  gaiety, 
this  music,  these  stupid  faces,  all  laughing,  are  killing  me  !  " 

"  My  poor  friend  !  "  replied  Montcornet  gently,  and  giv- 
ing the  Count's  hand  a  friendly  pressure,  "  you  are  too  vehe- 
ment. What  would  you  say  if  I  told  you  that  Martial  is 
thinking  so  little  of  Madame  de  Vaudremont  that  he  is  quite 
smitten  with  that  little  lady?" 

"If  he  says  a  word  to  her,"  cried  Soulanges,  stammering 
with  rage,  "  I  will  thrash  him  as  flat  as  his  own  portfolio, 
even  if  the  coxcomb  were  in  the  Emperor's  lap  !  " 

And  he  sank  quite  overcome  on  an  easy-chair  to  which 
Montcornet  had  led  him.  The  colonel  slowly  went  away,  for 
he  perceived  that  Soulanges  was  in  a  state  of  fury  far  too 
violent  for  the  pleasantries  or  the  attentions  of  superficial 
friendship  to  soothe  him. 


PEACE   /.V   TflE   HOUSE.  341 

When  Montcornet  returned  to  the  ball-room,  Madame  de 
Vaudremont  was  the  first  person  on  whom  his  eyes  fell,  and 
he  observed  on  her  face,  usually  so  calm,  some  symptoms  of 
ill-disguised  agitation.  A  chair  was  vacant  near  hers  and  the 
colonel  seated  himself. 

"  I  dare  wager  something  has  vexed  you?  "  said  he. 

"  A  mere  trifle,  colonel.  I  want  to  be  gone,  for  I  have 
promised  to  go  to  a  ball  at  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Berg's,  and 
I  must  look  in  first  at  the  Princesse  de  Wagram's.  Monsieur 
de  la  Roche-Hugon,  who  knows  this,  is  amusing  himself  by 
flirting  with  the  dowagers." 

"That  is  not  the  whole  secret  of  your  disturbance,  and  I 
will  bet  a  hundred  louis  that  you  will  remain  here  the  whole 
evening." 

"  Impertinent  man  !  " 

"Then  I  have  hit  the  truth  ?  " 

"  Well,  tell  me,  what  am  I  thinking  of?"  said  the  Coun- 
tess, tapping  the  colonel's  fingers  with  her  fan.  "I  might 
even  reward  you  if  you  guess  rightly." 

"  I  will  not  accept  the  challenge ;  I  have  too  much  the 
advantage  of  you." 

"You  are  presumptuous." 

"  You  are  afraid  of  seeing  Martial  at  the  feet " 

"  Of  whom?  "  cried  the  Countess,  affecting  surprise. 

"Of  that  candelabrum,"  replied  the  colonel,  glancing  at 
the  fair  stranger,  and  then  looking  at  the  Countess  with 
embarrassing  scrutiny. 

"You  have  guessed  it,"  replied  the  coquette,  hiding  her 
face  behind  her  fan,  which  she  began  to  play  with.  "  Old 
Madame  de  Lansac,  who  is,  you  know,  as  malicious  as  an  old 
monkey,"  she  went  on,  after  a  pause,  "  has  just  told  me  that 
Monsieur  de  la  Roche-Hugon  is  running  into  danger  by  flirt- 
ing with  that  stranger,  who  sits  here  this  evening  like  a  skel- 
eton at  a  feast.  I  would  rather  see  a  death's-head  than  that 
face,  so  cruelly  beautiful,  and  as  pale  as  a  ghost.     She  is  my 


342  PEACE   IN  THE   HOUSE. 

evil  genius.  Madame  de  Lansac,"  she  added,  after  a  flash 
and  gesture  of  annoyance,  "  who  only  goes  to  a  ball  to  watch 
everything  while  pretending  to  sleep,  has  made  me  miserably 
anxious.  Martial  shall  pay  dearly  for  playing  me  such  a 
trick.  Urge  him,  meanwhile,  since  he  is  your  friend,  not  to 
make  me  so  unhappy." 

"  I  have  just  been  with  a  man  who  promises  to  blow  his 
brains  out,  and  nothing  less,  if  he  speaks  to  that  little  lady. 
And  he  is  the  man,  madame,  to  keep  his  word.  But  then  I 
know  Martial ;  such  threats  are  to  him  an  encouragement. 
And,  besides,  we  have  wagered "  Here  the  colonel  low- 
ered his  voice. 

"  Can  it  be  true?  "  said  the  Countess. 

**  On  my  word  of  honor." 

"Thank  you,  my  dear  colonel,"  replied  Madame  de 
Vaudremont,  with  a  glance  full  of  invitation. 

"  Will  you  do  me  the  honor  of  dancing  with  me?  "  asked 
the  colonel,  meaningly. 

"  Yes  ;  but  tlie  next  quadrille.  During  this  one  I  want  to 
find  out  what  will  come  of  this  little  intrigue,  and  to  ascertain 
who  the  little  blue  lady  may  be;  she  looks  intelligent." 

The  colonel,  understanding  that  Madame  de  Vaudremont 
wished  to  be  alone,  retired,  well  content  to  have  begun  his 
attack  so  well. 

At  most  entertainments  women  are  to  be  met  who  are 
there,  like  Madame  de  Lansac,  as  old  sailors  gather  on  the 
seashore  to  watch  younger  mariners  struggling  with  the 
tempest.  At  this  moment  Madame  de  Lansac,  who  seemed 
to  be  interested  in  the  personages  of  this  drama,  could  easily 
guess  the  agitation  which  the  Countess  was  going  through. 
The  lady  might  fan  herself  gracefully,  smile  on  the  young 
men  who  bowed  to  her,  and  bring  into  play  all  the  arts  by 
which  a  woman  hides  her  emotion — the  dowager,  one  of  the 
most  clear-sighted  and  mischief-loving  duchesses  bequeathed 


PEACE   IN   THE   HOUSE.  343 

by  the  eighteenth  century  to  the  nineteenth,  could   read  lier 
heart  and  mind  through  it  all. 

The  old  lady  seemed  to  detect  the  slightest  movement  that 
revealed  the  impressions  of  the  soul.  The  imi)erceptible 
frown  that  furrowed  that  calm,  pure  forehead,  the  faintest 
quiver  of  the  cheeks,  the  curve  of  the  eyebrows,  the  least  curl 
of  the  lips,  whose  living  coral  could  conceal  nothing  from 
her,  all  these  were  to  the  Duchess  like  the  print  of  a  book. 
From  the  depths  of  her  large  arm-chair,  completely  filled  by 
the  flow  of  her  dress,  the  coquette  of  the  past,  while  talking 
to  a  diplomat  who  had  sought  her  out  to  hear  the  anecdotes 
she  told  so  cleverly,  was  admiring  herself  in  the  younger 
coquette  ;  she  felt  kindly  to  her,  seeing  how  bravely  she  dis- 
guised her  annoyance  and  grief  of  heart.  Madame  de  Vaudre- 
mont,  in  fact,  felt  as  much  sorrow  as  she  feigned  cheerfulness; 
she  had  believed  that  she  had  found  in  Martial  a  man  of 
talent  on  whose  support  she  could  count  for  adorning  her  life 
with  all  the  enchantment  of  power  ;  and  at  this  moment  she 
perceived  her  mistake,  as  injurious  to  her  reputation  as  to  her 
good  opinion  of  herself.  In  her,  as  in  other  women  of  that 
time,  the  suddenness  of  their  passions  increased  their  vehe- 
mence. Souls  which  love  much  and  love  often  suffer  no  less 
than  those  which  burn  themselves  out  in  one  affection.  Her 
liking  for  Martial  was  but  of  yesterday,  it  is  true,  but  the 
least  experienced  surgeon  knows  that  the  pain  caused  by  the 
amputation  of  a  healthy  limb  is  more  acute  than  the  removal 
of  a  diseased  one.  There  was  a  future  before  Madame  de 
Vaudremont's  passion  for  Martial,  while  her  previous  love  had 
been  hopeless,  and  poisoned  by  Soulanges*  remorse. 

The  old  Duchess,  who  was  watching  for  an  opportunity  of 
speaking  to  the  Countess,  hastened  to  dismiss  her  ambassador  ; 
for  in  comparison  with  a  lovers'  quarrel  every  interest  pales, 
even  with  an  old  woman.  To  engage  battle,  Madame  de 
Lansac  shot  at  the  younger  lady  a  sardonic  glance  which  made 
the  Countess  fear  lest  her  fate  was  in  the  dowager's  hands. 


344  PEACE    LV  THE  HOUSE. 

There  are  looks  between  woman  and  woman  which  are  like 
the  torches  brought  on  at  the  climax  of  a  tragedy.  No  one 
who  had  not  known  the  Duchess  could  appreciate  the  terror 
which  the  expression  of  her  countenance  inspired  in  the 
Countess. 

Madame  de  Lansac  was  tall,  and  her  features  led  people  to 
say,  "That  must  have  been  a  handsome  women!"  She 
coated  her  cheeks  so  thickly  with  rouge  that  the  wrinkles  were 
scarcely  visible ;  but  her  eyes,  far  from  gaining  a  factitious 
brilliancy  from  this  strong  carmine,  looked  all  the  more  dim. 
She  wore  a  vast  quantity  of  diamonds,  and  dressed  with  suffi- 
cient taste  not  to  make  herself  ridiculous.  Her  sharp  nose 
promised  epigram.  A  well-fitted  set  of  teeth  preserved  a  smile 
of  such  irony  as  recalled  that  of  Voltaire.  At  the  same  time, 
the  exquisite  politeness  of  her  manner  so  effectually  softened 
the  mischievous  twist  in  her  mind,  that  it  was  impossible  to 
accuse  her  of  spitefulness. 

The  old  woman's  eyes  lighted  up,  and  a  triumphant  glance, 
seconded  by  a  smile,  which  said,  "  I  promised  you  as  much  !  " 
shot  across  the  room,  and  brought  a  blush  of  hope  to  the  pale 
cheeks  of  the  young  creature  languishing  under  the  great  chan- 
delier. This  alliance  between  Madame  de  Lansac  and  the 
stranger  could  not  escape  the  practiced  eye  of  the  Comtesse  de 
Vaudremont,  who  scented  a  mystery,  and  was  determined  to 
penetrate  it. 

At  this  instant  the  Baron  de  la  Roche-Hugon,  after  question- 
ing all  the  dowagers  without  success  as  to  the  blue  lady's  name, 
applied  in  despair  to  the  Comtesse  de  Gondreville,  from  whom 
he  received  only  this  unsatisfactory  reply,  "A  lady  whom  the 
*  ancient '  Duchesse  de  Lansac  introduced  to  me." 

Turning  by  chance  towards  the  armchair  occupied  by  the 
old  lady,  the  lawyer  intercepted  the  glance  of  intelligence  she 
sent  to  the  stranger ;  and  although  he  had  for  some  time  been 
on  bad  terms  with  her,  he  determined  to  speak  to  her.  The 
"ancient  "  Duchess,  seeing  the  jaunty  Baron  prowling  round 


PEACE  /yV   THE   HOUSE.  34r> 

her  chair,  smiled  with  sardonic  irony,  and  looked  at  Madame 
de  Vaudremont  with  an  expression  that  made  Montcornet 
laugh. 

"  If  the  old  witch  affects  to  be  friendly,"  thought  the  Baron, 
"  she  is  certainly  going  to  play  me  some  spiteful  trick.  Ma- 
dame," he  said,  "  you  have,  I  am  told,  undertaken  the  charge 
of  a  very  precious  treasure." 

"Do  you  take  me  for  a  dragon?"  retorted  the  old  lady. 
**  But  of  whom  are  you  speaking?  "  she  added,  with  a  sweet- 
ness which  revived  Martial's  hopes. 

•*  Of  that  little  lady,  unknown  to  all,  whom  the  jealousy  of 
all  these  coquettes  has  imprisoned  in  that  corner.  You,  no 
doubt,  know  her  family?  " 

"Yes,"  said  the  Duchess.  "  But  what  concern  have  you 
with  a  provincial  heiress,  married  some  time  since,  a  woman 
of  good  birth  whom  none  of  you  know,  you  men  ;  she  goes 
nowhere?  " 

"  Why  does  she  not  dance,  she  is  such  a  pretty  creature  ? 
May  we  conclude  a  treaty  of  peace?  If  you  will  vouchsafe  to 
tell  me  all  I  want  to  know,  I  promise  you  that  a  petition  for 
the  restitution  of  the  woods  of  Navarreins  by  the  commissioners 
of  crown  lands  shall  be  strongly  urged  on  the  Emperor." 

The  younger  branch  of  the  house  of  Navarreins  bears  quar- 
terly with  the  arms  of  Navarreins  those  of  Lansac,  namely, 
azure  and  argent  party  per  pale  raguly,  between  six  spear-heads 
in  pale,  and  the  old  lady's  liaison  with  Louis  XV.  had  earned 
her  husband  the  title  of  duke  by  royal  patent.  Now,  as  the 
Navarreins  had  not  yet  resettled  in  France,  it  was  sheer  trick- 
ery that  the  young  lawyer  thus  proposed  to  the  old  lady  by 
suggesting  to  her  that  she  should  petition  for  an  estate  belong- 
ing to  the  elder  branch  of  the  family. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  old  woman  with  deceptive  gravity, 
"  bring  the  Comtesse  de  Vaudremont  across  to  me.  I  promise 
you  that  I  will  reveal  to  her  the  mystery  of  the  interesting 
unknown.     You  see,  every  man  in  the  room  has  reached  as 


346  PEACE   IN  THE  HOUSE. 

great  a  curiosity  as  your  own.  All  eyes  are  involuntarily 
turned  towards  the  corner  where  my  protegee  has  so  modestly 
placed  herself;  she  is  reaping  all  the  homage  the  women 
wished  to  deprive  her  of.  Happy  the  man  she  chooses  for 
her  partner  !  "  She  interrupted  herself,  fixing  her  eyes  on 
Madame  de  Vaudremont  with  one  of  those  looks  which  plainly 
say,  "  We  are  talking  of  you."  Then  she  added,  "  I  imagine 
you  would  rather  learn  the  stranger's  name  from  the  lips  of 
your  handsome  Countess  than  from  mine." 

There  was  such  a  marked  defiance  in  the  Duchess'  attitude 
that  Madame  de  Vaudremont  arose,  came  up  to  her,  and  took 
the  chair  Martial  placed  for  her ;  then  without  noticing  him 
she  said,  "  I  can  guess,  madame,  that  you  are  talking  of  me; 
but  I  admit  my  want  of  perspicacity  ;  I  do  not  know  whether 
it  is  for  good  or  evil." 

Madame  de  Lansac  pressed  the  young  woman's  pretty  hand 
in  her  own  dry  and  wrinkled  fingers,  and  answered  in  a  low, 
compassionate  tone,  "  Poor  child  !  " 

The  women  looked  at  each  other.  Madame  de  Vaudre- 
mont understood  that  Martial  was  in  the  way,  and  dismissed 
him,  saying  with  an  imperious  expression,  "  Leave  us." 

The  Baron,  ill  pleased  at  seeing  the  Countess  under  the 
spell  of  the  dangerous  sibyl  who  had  drawn  her  to  her  side, 
gave  one  of  those  looks  which  a  man  can  give — potent  over 
a  blinded  heart,  but  simply  ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  a  woman 
who  is  beginning  to  criticise  the  man  who  has  attracted  her. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  play  the  Emperor?  "  said  Madame 
de  Vaudremont,  turning  three-quarters  of  her  face  to  fix  an 
ironical  sidelong  gaze  on  the  lawyer. 

Martial  was  too  much  a  man  of  the  world,  and  had  too 
much  wit  and  acumen,  to  risk  breaking  with  a  woman  who 
was  in  favor  at  Court,  and  whom  the  Emperor  wished  to  see 
married.  He  counted,  too,  on  the  jealousy  he  intended  to 
provoke  in  her  as  the  surest  means  of  discovering  the  secret 
of  her  coolness,  and  withdrew  all  the  more  willingly,  because 


PEACE   IN   THE  HOUSE.  347 

at  this  moment  a  new  quadrille  was  putting  everybody  in 
motion. 

With  an  air  of  making  room  for  the  dancing,  the  Baron 
leaned  back  against  the  marble  slab  of  a  console,  folded  his 
arms,  and  stood  absorbed  in  watching  the  two  ladies  talking. 
From  time  to  time  he  followed  the  glances  which  both  fre- 
quently directed  to  the  stranger.  Then,  comparing  the 
Countess  with  the  new  beauty,  made  so  attractive  by  a  touch 
of  mystery,  the  Baron  fell  a  prey  to  the  detestable  self-interest 
common  to  adventurous  lady-killers;  he  hesitated  between  a 
fortune  within  his  grasp  and  the  indulgence  of  his  caprice. 
The  blaze  of  light  gave  such  a  strong  relief  to  his  anxious 
and  sullen  face,  against  the  hangings  of  white  silk  moreen 
brushed  by  his  black  hair,  that  he  might  have  been  compared 
to  an  evil  genius.  Even  from  a  distance  more  than  one  ob- 
server no  doubt  said  to  himself,  as  he  noted  the  attitude  of 
the  Baron,  "  There  is  another  poor  wretch  who  seems  to  be 
enjoying  himself!  " 

The  colonel,  meanwhile,  with  one  shoulder  leaning  lightly 
against  the  side-post  of  the  doorway  between  the  ball-room  and 
the  card-room,  could  laugh  undetected  under  his  ample 
mustache;  it  amused  him  to  look  on  at  the  turmoil  of  the 
dance  ;  he  could  see  a  hundred  pretty  heads  turning  about  in 
obedience  to  the  figures ;  he  could  read  in  some  faces,  as  in 
those  of  the  Countess  and  his  friend  Martial,  the  secrets  of 
their  agitation  ;  and  then,  looking  around,  he  wondered  what 
connection  there  could  be  between  the  gloomy  looks  of  the 
Comte  de  Soulanges,  still  seated  on  the  sofa,  and  the  plaintive 
expression  of  the  fair  unknown,  on  whose  features  the  joys  of 
hope  and  the  anguish  of  involuntary  dread  were  alternately 
legible.  Montcornet  stood  like  the  king  of  the  feast.  In 
this  moving  picture  he  saw  a  complete  presentment  of  the 
world,  and  he  laughed  at  it  as  he  found  himself  the  object  of 
inviting  smiles  from  a  hundred  beautiful  and  elegant  women. 
A  colonel  of  the  Imperial  Guard,  a  position  equal  to  that  of 


348  PEACE   /yV  THE   HOUSE. 

a  brigadier-general,  was,  undoubtedly,  one  of  the  best  matches 
in  the  army. 

It  was  now  nearly  midnight.  The  conversation,  the  gam- 
bling, the  dancing,  the  flirtations,  interests,  petty  rivalries, 
and  scheming  had  all  reached  the  pitch  of  ardor  which 
makes  a  young  man  exclaim  involuntarily,  "  A  fine  ball  !  " 

"My  sweet  little  angel,"  said  Madame  de  Lansac  to  the 
Countess,  "  you  are  now  at  an  age  when  in  my  day  I  made 
many  mistakes.  Seeing  you  just  now  enduring  a  thousand 
deaths,  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  might  give  you  some  chari- 
table advice.  To  go  wrong  at  two-and-twenty  means  spoiling 
your  future  ;  is  it  not  tearing  the  gown  you  must  wear  ?  My 
dear,  it  is  not  until  much  later  that  we  learn  to  go  about  in 
it  without  crumpling  it.  Go  on,  sweetheart,  making  clever 
enemies,  and  friends  who  have  no  sense  of  conduct,  and  you 
will  see  what  a  pleasant  life  you  will  some  day  be  leading  !  " 

"  Oh,  madame,  it  is  very  hard  for  a  woman  to  be  happy, 
do  you  not  think?  "   the  Countess  eagerly  exclaimed. 

'*  My  child,  at  your  age  you  must  learn  to  choose  between 
pleasure  and  happiness.  You  want  to  marry  Martial,  who  is 
not  fool  enough  to  make  a  good  husband,  nor  passionate 
enough  to  remain  a  lover.  He  is  in  debt,  my  dear  ;  he  is 
the  man  to  run  througli  your  fortune  ;  still,  that  would  be 
nothing  if  he  could  make  you  happy.  Do  you  not  see  how 
aged  he  is?  The  man  must  have  been  often  ill;  he  is  mak- 
ing the  most  of  what  is  left  him.  In  three  years  he  will  be  a 
wreck.  Then  he  will  be  ambitious;  perhaps  he  may  succeed. 
I  do  not  think  so.  What  is  he?  A  man  of  intrigue,  who 
may  have  the  business  faculty  to  i)erfection  and  be  able  to 
gossip  agreeably ;  but  he  is  too  presumptuous  to  have  any 
sterling  merit ;  he  will  not  go  far.  Besides — only  look  at  him. 
Is  it  not  written  on  his  brow  that,  at  this  very  moment,  what 
he  sees  in  you  is  not  a  young  and  pretty  woman,  but  the  two 
million  francs  you  possess  ?  He  does  not  love  you,  my  dear  ; 
he  is  reckoning  you  up  as  if  you  were  an  investment.     If  you 


PEACE   IN   THE   HOUSE.  349 

are  bent  on  marrying,  find  an  older  man  who  has  an  assured 
position  and  is  halt-way  on  his  career.  A  widow's  marriage 
ought  not  to  be  a  trivial  love  affair.  Is  a  mouse  to  be  caught 
a  second  time  in  the  same  trap  ?  A  new  alliance  ought  now 
to  be  a  good  speculation  on  your  part,  and  in  marrying  again 
you  ought  at  least  to  have  a  hope  of  being  some  day  addressed 
as  Madame  la  Marechale." 

As  she  spoke  both  women  naturally  fixed  their  eyes  on  Col- 
onel Montcornet's  handsome  face. 

"  If  you  would  rather  play  the  delicate  ])art  of  a  flirt  and 
not  marry  again,"  the  Duchess  went  on,  with  blunt  good- 
nature; "well !  my  poor  child,  you,  better  than  any  woman, 
will  know  how  to  raise  the  storm-clouds  and  disperse  them 
again.  But,  I  beseech  you,  never  make  it  your  pleasure  to 
disturb  the  peace  of  families,  to  destroy  unions,  and  ruin  the 
happiness  of  happy  wives.  I,  my  dear,  have  played  that  peril- 
ous game.  Dear  heaven  !  for  a  triumph  of  vanity  some  poor 
virtuous  soul  is  murdered — for  there  really  are  virtuous  women, 
child — and  we  may  make  ourselves  mortally  hated.  I  learned, 
a  little  too  late,  that,  as  the  Due  d'Albe  once  said,  one  salmon 
is  worth  a  thousand  frogs  !  A  genuine  affection  c  ertainly 
brings  a  thousand  times  more  happiness  than  the  transient 
passions  we  may  inspire.  Well,  I  came  here  on  purpose  to 
preach  to  you  ;  yes,  you  are  the  cause  of  my  appearance  in 
this  house,  which  stinks  of  the  lower  class.  Have  I  not  just 
seen  actors  here  ?  Formerly,  my  dear,  we  received  them  in 
our  boudoir  ;  but  in  the  drawing-room — never  !  Why  do  you 
look  at  me  with  so  much  amazement  ?  Listen  to  me.  If  you 
want  to  play  with  men,  do  not  try  to  wring  the  hearts  of 
any  but  those  whose  life  is  not  yet  settled,  who  have  no 
duties  to  fulfill  ;  the  others  do  not  forgive  us  for  the  errors 
that  have  made  them  happy.  Profit  by  this  maxim,  founded 
on  my  long  experience.  That  luckless  Soulanges,  for  in- 
stance, whose  head  you  have  turned,  whom  you  have  intoxi- 
cated  for  these  fifteen  months  past,  God  knows  how  !     Do 


350  PEACE   IN   THE   HOUSE. 

you  know  at  what  you  have  struck  ?  At  his  whole  life.  He  has 
been  married  these  two  years  ;  he  is  worshiped  by  a  charm- 
ing wife,  whom  he  loves,  but  neglects  ;  she  lives  in  tears 
and  embittered  silence.  Soulanges  has  had  hours  of  remorse 
more  terrible  than  his  pleasure  has  been  sweet.  And  you, 
you  artful  little  thing,  have  deserted  him.  Well,  come  and 
see  your  work." 

The  old  lady  took  Madame  de  Vaudremont's  hand,  and 
they  rose. 

"There,"  said  Madame  de  Lansac,  and  her  eyes  showed 
her  the  stranger  sitting  pale  and  tremulous  under  the  glare  of 
the  candles,  "that  is  my  grandniece,  the  Comtesse  de  Sou- 
langes ;  to-day  she  yielded  at  last  to  my  persuasion  and  con- 
sented to  leave  the  sorrowful  room,  where  the  sight  of  her 
child  gives  her  but  little  consolation.  You  see  her?  You 
think  her  charming?  Then  imagine,  dear  Beauty,  what  she 
must  have  been  when  happiness  and  love  shed  their  glory  on 
that  face  now  blighted." 

The  Countess  looked  away  in  silence,  and  seemed  lost  in 
sad  reflections. 

The  Duchess  led  her  to  the  door  into  the  card-room  ;  then, 
after  looking  around  the  room  as  if  in  search  of  some  one — 
"  And  there  is  Soulanges  !  "  she  said  in  deep  tones. 

The  Countess  shuddered  as  she  saw,  in  the  least  brilliantly 
lighted  corner,  the  pale,  set  face  of  Soulanges  stretched  in  an 
easy-chair.  The  indifference  of  his  attitude  and  the  rigidity 
of  his  brow  betrayed  his  suffering.  The  players  passed  him 
to  and  fro,  without  paying  any  more  attention  to  him  than  if 
he  had  been  dead.  The  picture  of  the  wife  in  tears,  and  the 
dejected,  morose  husband,  separated  in  the  midst  of  this  fes- 
tivity like  the  two  halves  of  a  tree  blasted  by  lightning,  had 
perhaps  a  prophetic  significance  for  the  Countess.  She 
dreaded  lest  she  here  saw  an  image  of  the  revenges  the  future 
might  have  in  store  for  her.  Her  heart  was  not  yet  so  dried 
up  that  feeling  and  generosity  were  entirely  excluded,  and  she 


PEACE   LV   THE   HOUSE.  351 

pressed  the  Duchess'  hand,  while  thanking  her  by  one  of 
those  smiles  which  have  a  certain  childlike  grace. 

"  My  dear  child,"  the  old  lady  said  in  her  ear,  "remember 
henceforth  that  we  are  just  as  capable  of  repelling  a  man's 
attentions  as  of  attracting  them." 

"  She  is  yours  if  you  are  not  a  simpleton."  These  words 
were  whispered  into  Colonel  Montcornet's  ear  by  Madame  de 
Lansac,  while  the  handsome  Countess  was  still  absorbed  in 
compassion  at  the  sight  of  Soulanges,  for  she  still  loved  him 
truly  enough  to  wish  to  restore  him  to  happiness,  and  was 
promising  herself  in  her  own  mind  that  she  would  exert  the 
irresistible  power  her  charms  still  had  over  him  to  make  him 
return  to  his  wife. 

"  Oh  !  I  will  talk  to  him  !  "  said  she  to  Madame  de  Lansac. 

**  Do  nothing  of  the  kind,  my  dear  !  "  cried  the  old  lady, 
as  she  went  back  to  her  armchair.  "  Choose  a  good  husband, 
and  shut  your  door  to  my  nephew.  Believe  me,  my  child,  a 
wife  cannot  accept  her  husband's  heart  as  the  gift  of  another 
woman  ;  she  is  a  hundred  times  happier  in  the  belief  that  she 
has  re-conquered  it.  By  bringing  my  niece  here  I  believe  I 
have  given  her  an  excellent  chance  of  regaining  her  husband's 
affection.  All  the  assistance  I  need  or  ask  of  you  is  to  play 
the  colonel."  She  pointed  to  the  Baron's  friend,  and  the 
Countess  smiled. 

"  Well,  madame,  do  you  at  last  know  the  name  of  the  un- 
known ?  "  asked  Martial,  with  an  air  of  pique,  to  the  Countess 
when  he  saw  her  alone. 

"Yes,"  said  Madame  de  Vaudremont,  looking  him  in  the 
face. 

Her  features  expressed  as  much  roguery  as  fun.  The  smile 
which  gave  life  to  her  lips  and  cheeks,  the  liquid  brightness 
of  her  eyes,  were  like  the  will-o'-the-wisp  which  leads  travelers 
astray.  Martial,  who  believed  that  she  still  loved  him,  assumed 
the  coquetting  graces  in  which  a  man  is  so  ready  to  lull  him- 


352  PEACE   IX   THE   HOUSE. 

self  in  the  presence  of  the  woman  he  loves.  He  said  with  a 
fatuous  air — 

"And  will  you  be  annoyed  with  me  if  I  seem  to  attach 
great  importance  to  your  telling  me  tliat  name?" 

"Will  you  be  annoyed  with  me,"  answered  Madame  de 
Vaudremont,  "  if  a  remnant  of  affection  prevents  my  telling 
you ;  and  if  I  forbid  you  to  make  the  smallest  advances  to 
that  young  lady  ?  It  would  be  at  the  risk  of  your  life  per- 
haps." 

"To  lose  your  good  graces,  madame,  would  be  worse  than 
to  lose  my  life." 

"  Martial,"  said  the  Countess  severely,  "she  is  Madame  de 
Soulanges.  Her  husband  would  blow  your  brains  out — if, 
indeed,  you  have  any " 

"Ha,  ha!"  laughed  the  coxcomb.  "What!  the  colonel 
can  leave  the  man  in  peace  who  has  robbed  him  of  your  love, 
and  then  would  fight  for  his  wife  !  What  a  subversion  of 
principles  !  I  beg  of  you  to  allow  me  to  dance  with  the  little 
lady.  You  will  then  be  able  to  judge  how  little  love  that 
heart  of  ice  could  feel  for  you  ;  for,  if  the  colonel  disapproves 
of  my  dancing  with  his  wife  after  allowing  me  to " 

"  But  she  loves  her  husband." 

"  A  still  further  obstacle  that  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of 
conquering." 

"  But  she  is  married." 

"  A  whimsical  objection  !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  Countess,  with  a  bitter  smile,  "  you  punish 
us  alike  for  our  faults  and  our  repentance  !  " 

"Do  not  be  angry!"  exclaimed  Martial  eagerly.  "Oh, 
forgive  me,  I  beseech  you.  There,  I  will  think  no  more  of 
Madame  de  Soulanges." 

"  You  deserve  that  I  should  send  you  to  her,"  was  the  reply 
of  the  Countess. 

"I  am  off  then,"  said  the  Baron,  laughing,  "and  I  shall 
return  more  devoted  to  you  than  ever.      You  will  see  that  the 


PEACE  IN  THE  HOUSE.  353 

prettiest  woman  in  the  world  cannot  capture  the  heart  that  if 
yours." 

"That  is  to  say,  that  you  want  to  win  Colonel  Montcornet's 
horse  ? ' ' 

"Ah  !  Traitor!  "  said  he,  threatening  his  friend  with  his 
finger.  The  colonel  smiled  and  joined  them  ;  the  Baron  gave 
him  the  seat  near  the  Countess,  saying  to  her  with  a  sardonic 
accent — 

"  Here,  madame,  is  a  man  who  boasted  that  he  could  win 
your  good  graces  in  one  evening." 

He  went  away,  thinking  himself  clever  to  have  piqued  the 
Countess'  pride  and  done  Montcornet  an  ill  turn  ;  but,  in 
spite  of  his  habitual  keenness,  he  had  not  appreciated  the  irony 
underlying  Madame  de  Vaudremont's  speech  and  did  not  per- 
ceive that  she  had  come  as  far  to  meet  his  friend  as  his  friend 
towards  her,  though  both  were  unconscious  of  it. 

At  the  moment  when  the  lawyer  went  fluttering  up  to  the 
candelabrum  by  which  Madame  de  Soulanges  sat,  pale,  timid, 
and  apparently  alive  only  in  her  eyes,  her  husband  came  to  the 
door  of  the  ball-room,  his  eyes  flashing  with  anger.  The  old 
Duchess,  watchful  of  everything,  flew  to  her  nephew,  begged 
him  to  give  her  his  arm  and  find  her  carriage,  affecting  to  be 
mortally  bored,  and  hoping  thus  to  prevent  a  vexatious  out- 
break. Before  going  she  fired  a  singular  glance  of  intelli- 
gence at  lier  niece,  indicating  the  enterprising  knight  who  was 
about  to  address  her,  and  this  signal  seemed  to  say,  "There 
he  is,  avenge  yourself!  " 

Madame  de  Vaudremont  caught  these  looks  of  the  aunt  and 
niece ;  a  sudden  light  dawned  on  her  mind  ;  she  was  fright- 
ened lest  she  was  the  dupe  of  this  old  woman,  so  cunning  and 
so  practiced  in  intrigue. 

"  That  perfidious  Duchess,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  has  per- 
haps been  amusing  herself  by  preaching  morality  to  me  while 
playing  me  some  spiteful  trick  of  her  own." 

At  this  thought  Madame  de  Vaudremont's  pride  was  per- 
23 


354  PEACE  IN    THE   HOUSE. 

haps  more  roused  than  her  curiosity  to  disentangle  the  thread 
of  this  intrigue.  In  the  absorption  of  mind  to  which  she  was 
a  prey  she  was  no  longer  mistress  of  herself.  The  colonel, 
interpreting  to  his  own  advantage  the  embarrassment  evident 
in  the  Countess'  manner  and  speech,  became  more  ardent  and 
pressing.  The  old  blase  diplomats,  amusing  themselves  by 
watching  the  play  of  faces,  had  never  found  so  many  intrigues 
at  once  to  watch  or  guess  at.  The  passions  agitating  the  two 
couples  were  to  be  seen  with  variations  at  every  step  in  the 
crowded  rooms,  and  reflected  with  different  shades  in  other 
countenances.  The  spectacle  of  so  many  vivid  passions,  of 
all  these  lovers'  quarrels,  these  pleasing  revenges,  these  cruel 
favors,  these  flaming  glances,  of  all  this  ardent  life  diffused 
around  them,  only  made  them  feel  their  impotence  more 
keenly. 

At  last  the  Baron  had  found  a  seat  by  Madame  de  Soulan- 
ges.  His  eyes  stole  a  long  look  at  her  neck,  as  fresh  as  dew 
and  as  fragrant  as  field  flowers.  He  admired  close  at  hand 
the  beauty  which  had  amazed  him  from  afar.  He  could  see 
a  small,  well-shod  foot,  and  measure  with  his  eye  a  slender 
and  graceful  shape.  At  that  time  women  wore  their  sash  tied 
close  under  the  bosom,  in  imitation  of  Greek  statues,  a  pitiless 
fashion  for  those  whose  bust  was  faulty.  As  he  cast  furtive 
glances  at  the  Countess'  figure.  Martial  was  enchanted  with 
its  perfection. 

"  You  have  not  danced  once  this  evening,  madame,"  said 
he  in  soft  and  flattering  tones.  "  Not,  I  should  suppose,  for 
lack  of  a  partner?" 

"I  never  go  to  parties;  I  am  quite  unknown,"  replied 
Madame  de  Soulanges  coldly,  not  having  understood  the  look 
by  which  her  aunt  had  just  conveyed  to  her  that  she  was  to 
attract  the  Baron. 

Martial,  to  give  himself  countenance,  twisted  the  diamond 
he  wore  on  his  left  hand  ;  the  rainbow  fires  of  the  gem  seemed 
to  flash  a  sudden  light  on  the  young   Countess'   mind  ;  slie 


PEACE   IN  THE  HOUSE.  355 

blushed  and  looked  at  the  Baron  with  an  undefinable  expres- 
sion. 

"Do  you  like  dancing?"  asked  the  Provencal,  to  reopen 
the  conversation. 

"Yes,  very  much,  monsieur." 

At  this  strange  reply  their  eyes  met.  The  young  man, 
surprised  by  the  earnest  accent,  which  aroused  a  vague  hope 
in  his  heart,  had  suddenly  questioned  the  lady's  eyes. 

"  Then,  madame,  am  I  not  overbold  in  offering  myself  to 
be  your  partner  for  the  next  quadrille  ?  " 

Artless  confusion  colored  the  Countess'  white  cheeks. 

"  But,  monsieur,  I  have  already  refused  one  partner — a 
military  man " 

"  Was  it  that  tall  cavalry  colonel  whom  you  see  over  there?" 

"  Precisely  so." 

"Oh!  he  is  a  friend  of  mine  5  feel  no  alarm.  Will  you 
grant  me  the  favor  I  dare  hope  for?" 

"  Yes,  monsieur." 

Her  tone  betrayed  an  emotion  so  new  and  so  deep  that  the 
lawyer's  world-worn  soul  was  touched.  He  was  overcome  by 
shyness  like  a  school-boy's,  lost  his  confidence  and  his  south- 
ern brain  caught  fire  ;  he  tried  to  talk,  but  his  phrases  struck 
him  as  graceless  in  comparison  with  Madame  de  Soulanges' 
bright  and  subtle  replies.  It  was  lucky  for  him  that  the  quad- 
rille was  forming.  Standing  by  his  beautiful  partner,  he  felt 
more  at  ease.  To  many  men  dancing  is  a  phase  of  being ; 
they  think  that  they  can  more  powerfully  influence  the  heart 
of  woman  by  displaying  the  graces  of  their  bodies  than  by 
their  intellect.  Martial  wished,  no  doubt,  at  this  moment  to 
put  forth  all  his  most  effective  seductions,  to  judge  by  the  pre- 
tentiousness of  his  movements  and  gestures. 

He  led  his  conquest  to  the  quadrille  in  which  the  most 
brilliant  women  in  the  room  made  it  a  point  of  chimerical 
importance  to  dance  in  preference  to  any  other.  While  the 
orcliestra  played  the  introductory  bars  to  the  first  figure,  the 


356  PEACE  IN  THE   HOUSE. 

Baron  felt  it  an  incredible  gratification  to  his  pride  to  per- 
ceive, as  he  reviewed  the  ladies  forming  the  lines  of  that 
formidable  square,  that  Madame  de  Soulanges'  dress  might 
challenge  that  even  of  Madame  de  Vaudremont,  who,  by  a 
chance  not  perhaps  unsought,  was  standing  with  Montcornet 
vis-a-vis  to  himself  and  the  lady  in  blue.  All  eyes  were  for  a 
moment  turned  on  Madame  de  Soulanges  ;  a  flattering  mur- 
mur showed  that  she  was  the  subject  of  every  man's  conversa- 
tion with  his  partner.  Looks  of  admiration  and  envy  centred 
on  her,  with  so  much  eagerness  that  the  young  creature, 
abashed  by  a  triumph  she  seemed  to  disclaim,  modestly 
looked  down,  blushed,  and  was  all  the  more  charming. 
When  she  raised  her  white  eyelids  it  was  to  look  at  her  rav- 
ished partner  as  though  she  wished  to  transfer  the  glory  of 
this  admiration  to  him,  and  to  say  that  she  cared  more  for  his 
than  for  all  the  rest.  She  threw  her  innocence  into  her 
vanity;  or  rather  she  seemed  to  give  herself  up  to  the  guile- 
less admiration  which  is  the  beginning  of  love,  with  the  good 
faith  found  only  in  youthful  hearts.  As  she  danced,  the 
lookers-on  might  easily  believe  that  she  displayed  her  grace 
for  Martial  alone ;  and  though  she  was  modest,  and  new  to 
the  trickery  of  the  ball-room,  she  knew  as  well  as  the  most 
accomplished  coquette  how  to  raise  her  eyes  to  his  at  the 
right  moment  and  drop  their  lids  with  assumed  modesty. 

When  the  movement  of  a  new  figure,  invented  by  a  dancer 
named  Trenis,  and  named  after  him,  brought  Martial  flice  to 
face  with  the  colonel — "I  have  won  your  horse,"  said  he, 
laughing. 

"Yes,  but  you  have  lost  eighty  thousand  francs  a  year  !  " 
retorted  Montcornet,  glancing  at  Madame  de  Vaudremont. 

"  What  do  I  care?"  replied  Martial.  "  Madame  de  Sou- 
langes is  worth  millions  !  " 

At  the  end  of  the  quadrille  more  than  one  whisper  was 
poured  into  more  than  one  ear.  The  less  pretty  women  made 
moral  speeches  to  their  partners,  commenting  on  the  budding 


PEACE   IN  THE  HOUSE.  357 

liaison  between  Martial  and  the  Comtesse  de  Soulanges.  The 
handsomest  wondered  at  her  easy  surrender.  The  men  could 
not  understand  such  luck  as  the  Baron's,  not  regarding  him 
as  particularly  fascinating.  A  few  indulgent  women  said  it 
was  not  fair  to  judge  the  Countess  too  hastily  ;  young  wives 
would  be  in  a  very  hapless  plight  if  an  expressive  look  or  a 
few  graceful  dancing  steps  were  enough  to  compromise  a 
woman. 

Martial  alone  knew  the  extent  of  his  happiness.  During 
the  last  figure,  when  the  ladies  had  to  form  the  moulinet,  his 
fingers  clasped  those  of  the  Countess,  and  he  fancied  that, 
through  the  thin,  perfumed  kid  of  her  gloves,  the  young  wife's 
grasp  responded  to  his  amorous  appeal. 

"Madame,"  said  he,  as  the  quadrille  ended,  "do  not  go 
back  to  the  odious  corner  where  you  have  been  burying  your 
face  and  your  dress  until  now.  Is  admiration  the  only  benefit 
you  can  obtain  from  the  jewels  that  adorn  your  white  neck  and 
beautifully  dressed  hair?  Come  and  take  a  turn  through  the 
rooms  to  enjoy  the  scene  and  yourself." 

Madame  de  Soulanges  yielded  to  her  seducer,  who  thought 
she  would  be  his  all  the  more  surely  if  he  could  only  show 
her  off.  Side  by  side  they  walked  two  or  three  times  amid 
the  groups  who  crowded  the  rooms.  The  Comtesse  de  Sou- 
langes, evidently  uneasy,  paused  for  an  instant  at  each  door 
before  entering,  only  doing  so  after  stretching  her  neck  to 
look  at  all  the  men  there.  This  alarm,  which  crowned  the 
Baron's  satisfaction,  did  not  seem  to  be  removed  till  he  said 
to  her,  "  Make  yourself  easy  ;  he  is  not  here." 

They  thus  made  their  way  to  an  immense  picture  gallery  in 
a  wing  of  the  mansion,  where  their  eyes  could  feast  in  antici- 
pation on  the  splendid  display  of  a  collation  prepared  for  three 
hundred  persons.  As  supper  was  about  to  begin,  Martial  led 
the  Countess  to  an  oval  boudoir  looking  on  to  the  garden, 
where  the  rarest  flowers  and  a  few  shrubs  made  a  scented 
bower  under  bright  blue  hangings.     The  murmurs  of  the  fes- 


358  PEACE   IX   THE  HOUSE. 

tivity  here  died  away.  The  Countess,  at  first  startled,  refused 
firmly  to  follow  the  young  man  ;  but,  glancing  in  a  mirror,  she 
no  doubt  assured  herself  that  they  could  be  seen,  for  she  seated 
herself  on  an  ottoman  with  a  fairly  good  grace. 

"  This  room  is  charming,"  said  she,  admiring  the  sky-blue 
hangings  looped  with  pearls. 

"All  here  is  love  and  delight !  "  said  the  Baron,  with  deep 
emotion. 

In  the  mysterious  light  which  prevailed  he  looked  at  the 
Countess,  and  detected  on  her  gently  agitated  face  an  expres- 
sion of  uneasiness,  modesty,  and  eagerness  which  enchanted 
him.  The  young  lady  smiled,  and  this  smile  seemed  to  put 
an  end  to  the  struggle  of  feeling  surging  in  her  heart ;  in  the 
most  insinuating  way  she  took  her  adorer's  left  hand,  and 
drew  from  his  finger  the  ring  on  which  she  had  fixed  her  eyes. 

"  What  a  fine  diamond  !  "  she  exclaimed  in  the  artless  tone 
of  a  young  girl  betraying  the  incitement  of  a  first  temptation. 

Martial,  troubled  by  the  Countess'  involuntary  but  intoxi- 
cating touch,  like  a  caress,  as  she  drew  oft'  the  ring,  looked  at 
her  with  eyes  as  glittering  as  the  gem. 

"Wear  it,"  he  said,  "in  memory  of  this  hour,  and  for  the 
love  of " 

She  was  looking  at  him  with  such  rapture  that  he  did  not 
end  the  sentence  ;  he  kissed  her  hand. 

"You  give  it  to  me?"  she  said,  looking  much  astonished. 

"  I  wish  I  had  the  whole  world  to  offer  you !  " 

"  You  are  not  joking  ?  "  she  went  on,  in  a  voice  husky  with 
too  great  satisfaction. 

"  Will  you  accept  only  my  diamond?  " 

"  You  will  never  take  it  back  ?  "  she  insisted. 

"Never." 

She  put  the  ring  on  her  finger.  Martial,  confident  of  coming 
happiness,  was  about  to  put  his  hand  around  her  waist,  but 
she  suddenly  rose,  and  said  in  a  clear  voice,  without  any 
agitation — 


PEACE  IN  THE  HOUSE.  359 

**  I  accept  the  diamond,  monsieur,  with  the  less  scruple 
that  it  belongs  to  me. ' ' 

The  Baron  was  speechless. 

"  Monsieur  de  Soulanges  took  it  lately  from  my  dressing- 
table,  and  told  me  he  had  lost  it." 

"You  are  mistaken,  niadame,"  said  Martial,  nettled.  "It 
was  given  me  by  Madame  de  Vaudremont." 

"  Precisely  so,"  said  she  with  a  smile.  "  My  husband  bor- 
rowed this  ring  of  me,  he  gave  it  to  her,  she  made  it  a  present 
to  you  ;  my  ring  has  made  a  little  journey,  that  is  all.  This 
ring  will  perhaps  tell  me  all  I  do  not  know,  and  teach  me 
the  secret  of  always  pleasing.  Monsieur,"  she  went  on,  "  if 
it  had  not  been  my  own,  you  may  be  sure  I  should  not  have 
risked  paying  so  dear  for  it ;  for  a  young  woman,  it  is  said,  is 
in  danger  with  you.  But  you  see,"  and  she  touched  a  spring 
within  the  ring,  "  here  is  M.  de  Soulanges'  hair." 

She  fled  into  the  crowded  rooms  so  swiftly  that  it  seemed 
useless  to  try  and  follow  her ;  besides,  Martial  utterly  con- 
founded, was  in  no  mood  to  carry  the  adventure  further. 
The  Countess'  laugh  found  an  echo  in  the  boudoir,  where  the 
young  coxcomb  now  perceived,  between  two  shrubs,  the  col- 
onel and  Madame  de  Vaudremont,  both  laughing  heartily. 

"  Will  you  have  my  horse,  to  ride  after  your  prize  ?  "  said 
the  colonel. 

The  Baron  took  the  banter  poured  upon  him  by  Madame 
de  Vaudremont  and  Montcornet  with  a  good  grace,  which 
secured  their  silence  as  to  the  events  of  the  evening,  when  his 
friend  exchanged  his  charger  for  a  rich  and  pretty  young  wife. 

As  the  Comtesse  de  Soulanges  drove  across  Paris  from  the 
Chaussee  d'Antin  to  the  Faubourg  Saint-Germain,  where  she 
lived,  her  soul  was  a  prey  to  many  alarms.  Before  leaving 
the  Hotel  Gondreville  she  went  through  all  the  rooms,  but 
found  neither  her  aunt  nor  her  husband,  who  had  gone  away 
without  her.     Frightful  suspicions  then  tortured  her  ingenu- 


S60  PEACE    IN   THE  HOUSE. 

ous  mind.  A  silent  witness  of  her  husband's  torments  since 
the  day  when  Madame  de  Vaudremont  had  chained  him  lo 
her  car,  she  had  confidently  hoped  that  repentance  would  ere 
long  restore  her  husband  to  her.  It  was  with  unspeakable 
repugnance  that  she  had  consented  to  the  scheme  plotted  by 
her  aunt,  Madame  de  Lansac,  and  at  this  moment  she  feared 
she  had  made  a  mistake. 

The  evening's  experience  had  saddened  her  innocent  soul. 
Alarmed  at  first  by  the  Count's  look  of  suffering  and  dejec- 
tion, she  had  become  more  so  on  seeing  her  rival's  beauty, 
and  the  corruption  of  society  had  gripped  her  heart.  As  she 
crossed  the  Pont  Royal  she  threw  away  the  desecrated  hair 
at  the  back  of  the  diamond,  given  to  her  once  as  a  token  of  the 
purest  affection.  She  wept  as  she  remembered  the  bitter 
grief  to  which  she  had  so  long  been  a  victim,  and  shuddered 
more  than  once  as  she  reflected  that  the  duty  of  a  woman, 
who  wishes  for  peace  in  her  home,  compels  her  to  bury  suffer- 
ings so  keen  as  hers  at  the  bottom  of  her  heart,  and  without  a 
complaint. 

"Alas!  "  thought  she,  "what  can  women  do  when  they 
do  not  love?  What  is  the  font  of  their  indulgence?  I  can- 
not believe  that,  as  my  aunt  tells  me,  reason  is  all-sufticient 
to  maintain  them  in  such  devotion." 

She  was  still  sighing  when  her  manservant  let  down  the 
handsome  carriage-step,  from  which  she  flew  into  the  hall  of 
her  house.  She  rushed  precipitately  upstairs,  and  when  slie 
reached  her  room  was  startled  by  seeing  her  husband  sitting 
by  the  fire. 

"  How  long  is  it,  my  dear,  since  you  have  gone  to  balls 
without  telling  me  beforehand?"  he  asked  in  a  broken  voice. 
"  You  must  know  that  a  woman  is  always  out  of  place  without 
her  husband.  You  compromised  yourself  strangely  by  re- 
maining in  the  dark  corner  where  you  had  ensconced  your- 
self." 

"Oh,  my  dear,  good  Leon,"  said  she  in  a  coaxing  tone. 


PEACE  IN  THE  HOUSE.  861 

**  I  could  not  resist  the  happiness  of  seeing  you  without  your 
seeing  me.  My  aunt  took  me  to  that  ball,  and  I  was  very 
happy  there  !  " 

This  speech  disarmed  the  Count's  looks  of  their  assumed 
severity,  for  he  had  been  blaming  himself  while  dreading  his 
wife's  return,  no  doubt  fully  informed  at  the  ball  of  an  in- 
fidelity he  had  hoped  to  hide  from  her ;  and,  as  is  the  way 
of  lovers  conscious  of  their  guilt,  he  tried,  by  being  the  first 
to  find  fault,  to  escape  her  just  anger.  Happy  in  seeing  her 
husband  smile,  and  in  finding  him  at  this  hour  in  a  room 
whither  of  late  he  had  come  more  rarely,  the  Countess  looked 
at  him  so  tenderly  that  she  blushed  and  cast  down  her  eyes. 
Her  clemency  enraptured  Soulanges  all  the  more  because 
this  scene  followed  on  the  misery  he  had  endured  at  the  ball. 
He  seized  his  wife's  hand  and  kissed  it  gratefully.  Is  not 
gratitude  often  a  part  of  love? 

'•  Hortense,  what  is  that  on  your  finger  that  has  hurt  my 
lip  so  much?"  asked  he,  laughing. 

'*  It  is  my  diamond  ring  which  you  said  you  had  lost,  and 
which  I  have  found." 

General  Montcornet  did  not  marry  Madame  de  Vaudre- 
mont,  in  spite  of  the  mutual  understanding  in  which  they  had 
lived  for  a  few  minutes,  for  she  was  one  of  the  victims  of  the 
terrible  fire  whicli  sealed  the  fame  of  the  ball  given  by  the 
Austrian  ambassador  on  the  occasion  of  Napoleon's  marriage 
with  the  daughter  of  Emperor  Joseph  II. 


July,  1829. 


^"^^ 


LA    GRENADIERE. 

Translated    by   Ellen    Marriage. 

To  D.  W. 

La  Grenadiere  is  a  little  house  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Loire  as  you  go  down  stream,  about  a  mile  below  the  bridge 
of  Tours.  At  this  point  the  river,  broad  as  a  lake,  and  cov- 
ered with  scattered  green  islands,  flows  between  two  lines 
of  cliff,  where  country  houses  built  uniformly  of  white  stone 
stand  among  their  gardens  and  vineyards.  The  finest  fruit  in 
the  world  ripens  there  with  a  southern  exposure.  The  patient 
toil  of  many  generations  has  cut  terraces  in  the  cliff,  so  that 
the  face  of  the  rock  reflects  the  rays  of  the  sun,  and  the  pro- 
duce of  hot  climates  may  be  grown  out  of  doors  in  an  artifi- 
cially high  temperature. 

A  church  spire,  rising  out  of  one  of  the  shallower  dips  in 
the  line  of  cliff,  marks  the  little  village  of  Saint-Cyr,  to  which 
the  scattered  houses  all  belong.  And  yet  a  little  further  the 
Choisille  flows  into  the  Loire,  through  a  fertile  valley  cut  in 
the  long,  low  downs. 

La  Grenadiere  itself,  half-way  up  the  hillside  and  about  a 
hundred  paces  from  the  church,  is  one  of  those  old-fashioned 
houses  dating  back  some  two  or  three  hundred  years,  which 
you  find  in  every  picturesque  spot  in  Touraine.  A  fissure  in 
the  rock  affords  convenient  space  for  a  flight  of  steps  descend- 
ing gradually  to  the  "  dike  " — the  local  name  for  the  embank- 
ment made  at  the  foot  of  the  cliffs  to  keep  the  Loire  in  its 
bed  and  serve  as  a  causeway  for  the  high-road  from  Paris  to 
Nantes.  At  the  top  of  the  steps  a  gate  opens  upon  a  narrow 
stony  footpath  between  two  terraces,  for  here  the  soil  is 
banked  up,  and  walls  are  built  to  prevent  landslips.  These 
(362) 


LA    GRENADIERE.  363 

earthworks,  as  it  were,  are  crowned  with  trellises  and  espa- 
liers, so  that  the  steep  path  that  lies  at  the  foot  of  the  upper 
wall  is  almost  hidden  by  the  trees  that  grow  on  the  top  of  the 
lower,  upon  which  it  lies.  The  view  of  the  river  widens  out 
before  you  at  every  step  as  you  climb  to  the  house. 

At  the  end  you  come  to  a  second  gateway,  a  Gothic  arch- 
way covered  with  simple  ornament,  now  crumbling  into  ruin 
and  overgrown  with  wild-flowers — moss  and  ivy,  wall-flowers 
and  pellitory.  Every  stone-wall  on  the  hillside  is  decked  with 
this  ineradicable  plant-life,  which  springs  up  along  the  cracks 
between  the  courses  of  masonry,  tracing  out  the  lines  afresh 
with  new  wreaths  for  every  time  of  year. 

The  worm-eaten  gate  gives  into  a  little  garden,  a  strip  of 
turf,  a  few  trees,  and  a  wilderness  of  flowers  and  rose  bushes 
— a.  garden  won  from  the  rock  on  the  highest  terrace  of  all, 
with  the  dark,  old  balustrade  along  its  edge.  Opposite  the 
gateway  a  wooden  summer-house  stands  against  the  neighbor- 
ing wall ;  the  posts  are  covered  with  jessamine  and  honey- 
suckle, vines  and  clematis. 

The  house  itself  stands  in  the  middle  of  this  highest  garden, 
above  a  vine-covered  flight  of  steps,  with  an  arched  doorway 
beneath  that  leads  to  vast  cellars  hollowed  out  in  the  rock. 
All  about  the  dwelling  trellised  vines  and  pomegranate  trees 
(the  grenadiers,  which  give  the  name  to  the  little  close)  are 
growing  out  in  the  open  air.  The  front  of  the  house  consists 
of  two  large  windows  on  either  side  of  a  very  rustic-looking 
door,  and  three  dormer  windows  in  the  roof — a  slate  roof 
with  two  gables,  prodigiously  high-pitched  in  proportion  to 
the  low  ground  floor.  The  house  walls  are  washed  with  yellow 
color ;  and  door,  and  first-floor  shutters,  and  the  Venetian 
shutters  of  the  attic  windows,  all  are  painted  green. 

Entering  the  house,  you  find  yourself  in  a  little  lobby  with 
a  crooked  staircase  straight  in  front  of  you.  It  is  a  crazy 
wooden  structure,  the  spiral  balusters  are  brown  with  age, 
and  the  steps  themselves  take   a  new  angle   at  every  turn. 


364  LA    GRENADIERE. 

The  great,  old-fashioned  paneled  dining-room,  floored  with 
square,  white  tiles  from  Chateau-Regnault,  is  on  your  right ; 
to  the  left  is  the  sitting-room,  equally  large,  but  here  the 
walls  are  not  paneled  ;  they  have  been  covered  instead  with 
a  saflfron-colored  paper,  bordered  with  green.  The  walnut- 
wood  rafters  are  left  visible  and  the  intervening  spaces  filled 
with  a  kind  of  white  plaster. 

The  first  story  consists  of  two  large  white-washed  bedrooms 
with  stone  chimney-pieces,  less  elaborately  carved  than  those 
in  the  rooms  beneath.  Every  door  and  window  is  on  the 
south  side  of  the  house,  save  a  single  door  to  the  north,  con- 
trived behind  the  staircase  to  give  access  to  the  vineyard. 
Against  the  western  wall  stands  a  supplementary  timber- 
framed  structure,  all  the  woodwork  exposed  to  the  weather 
being  fledged  with  slates,  so  that  the  walls  are  checkered  with 
bluish  lines.  This  shed  (for  it  is  little  more)  is  the  kitchen 
of  the  establishment.  You  can  pass  from  it  into  the  house 
without  going  outside  ;  but,  nevertheless,  it  boasts  an  entrance 
door  of  its  own,  and  a  short  flight  of  steps  that  brings  you  to 
a  deep  well,  and  a  very  rustic-looking  pump,  half-hidden  by 
water  plants  and  savin  bushes  and  tall  grasses.  The  kitchen 
is  a  modern  addition,  proving  beyond  doubt  that  La  Grena- 
di^re  was  originally  nothing  but  a  simple  vendangeoir — a 
vintage-house  belonging  to  townsfolk  in  Tours,  from  which 
Saint-Cyr  is  separated  by  the  vast  river-bed  of  the  Loire. 
The  owners  only  came  over  for  the  day  for  a  picnic  or  at  the 
vintage-time,  sending  provisions  across  in  the  morning,  and 
scarcely  ever  spent  the  night  there  except  during  the  grape 
harvest ;  but  the  English  settled  down  on  Touraine  like  a 
cloud  of  locusts,  and  La  Grenadiere  must,  of  course,  be  com- 
pleted if  it  was  to  find  tenants.  Luckily,  however,  this  recent 
appendage  is  hidden  from  sight  by  the  two  first  trees  of  a 
lime-tree  avenue  planted  in  a  gulley  below  the  vineyards. 

There  arc  only  two  acres  of  vineyard  at  most,  the  ground 
rising  at  the  back  of  the  house  so  steeply  that  it  is  no  very 


LA    GRENADlkRE.  365 

easy  matter  to  scramble  up  among  the  vines.  The  slope, 
covered  with  green  trailing  shoots,  ends  within  about  five  feet 
of  the  house-wall  in  a  ditch-like  passage,  always  damp  and 
cold  and  full  of  strong  growing  green  things,  fed  by  the 
drainage  of  the  highly  cultivated  ground  above,  for  rainy 
weather  washes  down  the  manure  into  the  garden  on  the 
terrace. 

A  vine-dresser's  cottage  also  leans  against  the  western  gable, 
and  is  in  some  sort  a  continuation  of  the  kitchen.  Stone 
walls  or  espaliers  surround  the  property,  and  all  sorts  of  fruit 
trees  are  planted  among  the  vines ;  in  short,  not  an  inch  of 
this  precious  soil  is  wasted.  If  by  chance  man  overlooks 
some  dry  cranny  in  the  rocks.  Nature  puts  in  a  fig  tree,  or 
sows  wild-flowers  or  strawberries  in  sheltered  nooks  among 
the  stones. 

Nowhere  else  in  all  the  world  will  you  find  a  human  dwell- 
ing so  humble  and  yet  so  imposing,  so  rich  in  fruits,  and 
fragrant  scents,  and  wide  views  of  country.  Here  is  a  minia- 
ture Touraine  in  the  heart  of  Touraine — all  its  flowers  and  fruits 
and  all  the  characteristic  beauty  of  the  land  are  fully  repre- 
sented. Here  are  grapes  of  every  district,  figs  and  peaches  and 
pears  of  every  kind  ;  melons  are  grown  out  of  doors  as  easily 
as  licorice  plants,  Spanish  broom,  Italian  oleanders,  and  jes- 
samines from  the  Azores.  The  Loire  lies  at  your  feet.  You 
look  down  from  the  terrace  upon  the  ever-changing  river 
nearly  two  hundred  feet  below;  and  in  the  evening  the 
breeze  brings  a  fresh  scent  of  the  sea,  with  the  fragrance 
of  far-off  flowers  gathered  upon  its  way.  Some  cloud  wander- 
ing in  space,  changing  its  color  and  form  at  every  moment  as 
it  crosses  the  pure  blue  of  the  sky,  can  alter  every  detail  in 
the  widespread  wonderful  landscape  in  a  thousand  ways, 
from  every  point  of  view.  The  eye  embraces  first  of  all  the 
south  bank  of  the  Loire,  stretching  away  as  far  as  Am- 
boise,  then  Tours  with  its  suburbs  and  buildings,  and  tlie 
Plessis  rising  out  of  the  fertile  plain  ;  further  away,  between 


366  LA    GRENADlkRE. 

Vouvray  and  Saint-Symphorien,  you  see  a  sort  of  crescent 
of  gray  cliff  full  of  sunny  vineyards;  the  only  limits  to  your 
view  are  the  low,  rich  hills  along  the  Cher,  a  bluish  line  of 
horizon  broken  by  many  a  chateau  and  the  vvooded  masses  of 
many  a  park.  Out  to  the  west  you  lose  yourself  in  the  im- 
mense river,  where  vessels  come  and  go,  spreading  their  white 
sails  to  the  winds  which  seldom  fail  them  in  the  wide  Loire 
basin.  A  prince  might  build  a  summer  palace  at  La  Grena- 
diere,  but  certainly  it  will  always  be  the  home  of  a  poet's 
desire,  and  the  sweetest  of  retreats  for  two  young  lovers — 
for  this  vintage-house,  which  belongs  to  a  substantial  burgess 
of  Tours,  has  charms  for  every  imagination,  for  the  humblest 
and  dullest  as  well  as  for  the  most  impassioned  and  lofty.  No 
one  can  dwell  there  without  feeling  that  happiness  is  in  the 
air,  withcnit  a  glimpse  of  all  that  is  meant  by  a  peaceful  life 
without  care  or  ambition.  There  is  that  in  the  air  and  the 
sound  of  the  river  that  sets  you  dreaming ;  the  sands  have  a 
language,  and  are  joyous  or  dreary,  golden  or  wan  ;  and  the 
owner  of  the  vineyard  may  sit  motionless  amid  perennial 
flowers  and  tempting  fruit,  and  feel  all  the  stir  of  the  world 
about  him. 

If  an  Englishman  takes  the  house  for  the  summer,  he  is 
asked  a  thousand  francs  for  six  months,  the  produce  of  the 
vineyard  not  included.  If  the  tenant  wishes  for  the  orchard 
fruit,  the  rent  is  doubled  ;  for  the  vintage,  it  is  doubled  again. 
What  can  La  Grenadiere  be  worth,  you  wonder  ;  La  Grena- 
dicre,  with  its  stone  staircase,  its  beaten  path  and  triple  ter- 
race, its  two  acres  of  vineyard,  its  flowering  roses  about  the 
balustrades,  its  worn  steps,  well-head,  rampant  clematis,  and 
cosmopolitan  trees?  It  is  idle  to  make  a  bid!  La  Grena- 
diere will  never  be  in  the  market;  it  was  bought  once  and 
sold,  but  that  was  in  1690;  and  the  owner  parted  with  it  for 
forty  thousand  francs,  reluctant  as  any  Arab  of  the  desert  to 
relinquish  a  favorite  horse.  Since  then  it  has  remained  in  the 
same  family,  its  pride,  its  patrimonial  jewel,  its  Regent  dia- 


LA    GRENADlkRE.  367 

mond.  "While  you  behold,  you  have  and  hold,"  says  the 
bard.  And  from  La  Grenadiere  you  behold  three  valleys  of 
Touraine  and  the  cathedral  towers  aloft  in  air  like  a  bit  of 
filagree  work.  How  can  one  pay  for  such  treasures?  Could 
one  ever  pay  for  the  health  recovered  there  under  the  linden 
trees? 

In  the  spring  of  one  of  the  brightest  years  of  the  restora- 
tion, a  lady  with  her  housekeeper  and  her  two  children  (the 
oldest  a  boy  thirteen  years  old,  the  youngest  apparently  about 
eight)  came  to  Tours  to  look  for  a  house.  She  saw  La  Grena- 
diere and  took  it.  Perhaps  the  distance  from  the  town  was 
an  inducement  to  live  there. 

She  made  a  bedroom  of  the  drawing-room,  gave  the  chil- 
dren the  two  rooms  above,  and  the  housekeeper  slept  in  a  closet 
behind  the  kitchen.  The  dining-room  was  sitting-room  and 
drawing-room  all  in  one  for  the  little  family.  Tlie  house 
was  furnished  very  simply  but  tastefully;  there  was  nothing 
superfluous  in  it,  and  no  trace  of  luxury.  The  walnut-wood 
furniture  chosen  by  the  stranger  lady  was  perfectly  plain,  and 
the  whole  charm  of  the  house  consisted  in  its  neatness  and 
harmony  with  its  surroundings. 

It  was  rather  difficult,  therefore,  to  say  whether  the  strange 
lady  (Mme.  Willemsens,  as  she  styled  herself)  belonged  to  the 
upper  middle  or  higher  classes,  or  to  an  equivocal,  unclassified 
feminine  species.  Her  plain  dress  gave  rise  to  the  most  con- 
tradictory suppositions,  but  her  manners  might  be  held  to 
confirm  those  favorable  to  her.  She  had  not  lived  at  Saint- 
Cyr,  moreover,  for  very  long  before  her  reserve  excited  the 
curiosity  of  idle  people,  who  always,  and  especially  in  the 
country,  watch  anybody  or  anything  that  promises  to  bring 
some  interest  into  their  narrow  lives. 

Mme.  Willemsens  was  rather  tall ;  she  was  thin  and  slender, 
but  delicately  shaped.  She  had  pretty  feet,  more  remarkable 
for  the  grace  of  the  instep  and  ankle  than  for  the  more  ordi- 
nary  merit    of  slenderness;    her   gloved    hands,    too,    were 


368  LA    GRES'ADlkRE. 

shapely.  There  were  flitting  patches  of  deep  red  in  a  pale 
face,  which  must  have  once  been  fresh  and  softly  colored. 
Premature  wrinkles  had  withered  the  delicately  modeled  fore- 
head beneath  the  coronet  of  soft,  well-set,  chestnut  hair,  in- 
variably wound  about  her  head  in  two  plaits,  a  girlish  coiffure 
which  suited  the  melancholy  face.  There  was  a  deceptive 
look  of  calm  in  the  dark  eyes,  with  the  hollow,  shadowy 
circles  about  them ;  sometimes,  when  she  was  off  her  guard, 
their  expression  told  of  secret  anguish.  The  oval  of  her  face 
was  somewhat  long ;  but  happiness  and  health  had  perhaps 
filled  and  perfected  the  outlines.  A  forced  smile,  full  of 
quiet  sadness,  hovered  continually  on  her  pale  lips  ;  but  when 
the  children,  who  were  always  with  her,  looked  up  at  their 
mother,  or  asked  one  of  the  incessant  idle  questions  which 
convey  so  much  to  a  mother's  ears,  then  the  smile  brightened 
and  expressed  the  joys  of  a  mother's  love.  Her  gait  was  slow 
and  dignified.  Her  dress  never  varied  ;  evidently  she  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  think  no  more  of  her  toilet  and  to  for- 
get a  world  by  which  she  meant  no  doubt  to  be  forgotten. 
She  wore  a  long,  black  gown,  confined  at  the  waist  by  a 
watered-silk  ribbon,  and  by  way  of  scarf  a  lawn  handkerchief 
with  a  broad  hem,  the  two  ends  passed  carelessly  through  her 
waistband.  The  instinct  of  dress  showed  itself  in  that  she 
was  daintily  shod,  and  gray  silk  stockings  carried  out  the 
suggestion  of  mourning  in  this  unvarying  costume.  Lastly, 
she  always  wore  a  bonnet  after  tlie  English  fashion,  always  of 
the  same  shape  and  the  same  gray  material,  and  a  black  veil. 
Her  health  apparently  was  extremely  weak  ;  she  looked  very  ill. 
On  fine  evenings  she  would  take  her  only  walk,  down  to  the 
bridge  of  Tours,  bringing  the  two  children  with  her  to  breathe 
the  fresh,  cool  air  along  the  Loire,  and  to  watch  the  sunset 
effects  on  a  landscape  as  wide  as  the  Bay  of  Naples  or  the 
Lake  of  Geneva. 

During  the  whole  time  of  her  stay  at  La  Grenadidre  she 
went  but  twice  into  Tours;  once  to  call  on  the  headmaster 


LA    GRENADIARE.  369 

of  the  school,  to  ask  him  to  give  her  the  names  of  the 
best  masters  of  Latin,  drawing,  and  mathematics;  and  a 
second  time  to  make  arrangements  for  the  children's  lessons. 
But  her  appearance  on  the  bridge  of  an  evening,  once  or 
twice  a  week,  was  quite  enough  to  excite  the  interest  of  almost 
all  the  inhabitants  of  Tours,  who  make  a  regular  promenade 
of  the  bridge.  Still,  in  spite  of  a  kind  of  spy  system,  by 
which  no  harm  is  meant,  a  provincial  habit  bred  of  want  of 
occupation  and  the  restless  inquisitiveness  of  the  principal 
society,  nothing  was  known  for  certain  of  the  new-comer's 
rank,  fortune,  or  real  condition.  Only,  the  owner  of  La 
Grenadiere  told  one  or  two  of  his  friends  that  the  name  under 
which  the  stranger  had  signed  the  lease  (her  real  name,  there- 
fore, in  all  probability)  was  Augusta  Willemsens,  Countess  of 
Brandon.  This,  of  course,  must  be  her  husband's  name. 
Events,  which  will  be  narrated  in  their  place,  confirmed  this 
revelation  5  but  it  went  no  further  than  the  little  world  of 
men  of  business  known  to  the  landlord. 

So  Mme.  Willemsens  was  a  continual  mystery  to  people  of 
condition.  Hers  was  no  ordinary  nature  ;  her  manners  were 
simple  and  delightfully  natural ;  the  tones  of  her  voice  were 
divinely  sweet — this  was  all  that  she  suffered  others  to  dis- 
cover. In  her  complete  seclusion,  her  sadness,  her  beauty  so 
passionately  obscured — nay,  almost  blighted — there  was  so 
much  to  charm,  that  several  young  gentlemen  fell  in  love; 
but  the  more  sincere  the  lover,  the  more  timid  he  became  ; 
and,  besides,  the  lady  inspired  awe,  and  it  was  a  difficult 
matter  to  find  enough  courage  to  speak  to  her.  Finally, 
if  a  few  of  the  bolder  sort  wrote  to  her,  their  letters  must 
have  been  burned  unread.  It  was  Mme.  Willemsens'  practice 
to  throw  all  the  letters  which  she  received  into  the  fire,  as  if 
she  meant  that  the  time  spent  in  Touraine  should  be  un- 
troubled by  any  outside  cares  even  of  the  slightest.  She 
might  have  come  to  the  enchanting  retreat  to  give  herself  up 
wholly  to  the  joy  of  living. 
24 


370  LA    GJiE.VADI^RE. 

The  three  masters  whose  presence  was  allowed  at  La 
Grenadiere  spoke  with  something  like  admiring  reverence 
of  the  touching  picture  that  they  saw  there  of  the  close, 
unclouded  intimacy  of  the  life  led  by  this  woman  and  the 
children. 

The  two  little  boys  also  aroused  no  small  interest. 
Mothers  could  not  see  them  without  a  feeling  of  envy. 
Both  children  were  like  Mme.  Willemsens,  who  was,  in 
fact,  their  mother.  They  had  the  transparent  complexion 
and  bright  color,  the  clear  liquid  eyes,  the  long  lashes, 
the  fresh  outlines,  the  dazzling  characteristics  of  childish 
beauty. 

The  elder,  Louis-Gaston,  had  dark  hair  and  fearless  eyes. 
Everything  about  him  spoke  as  plainly  of  robust  physical 
health  as  his  broad,  high  brow,  with  its  gracious  curves, 
spoke  of  energy  of  character.  He  was  quick  and  alert  in 
his  movements,  and  strong  of  limb,  without  a  trace  of 
awkwardness.  Nothing  took  him  unawares  and  he  seemed 
to  think  about  everything  that  he  saw. 

Marie-Gaston,  the  other  cliild,  had  hair  that  was  almost 
golden,  thougli  a  lock  here  and  there  had  deepened  to  the 
mother's  chestnut  tint.  Marie-Gaston  was  slender;  he  had 
the  delicate  features  and  the  subtle  grace  so  charming  in 
Mme.  Willemsens.  He  did  not  look  strong.  There  was 
a  gentle  look  in  his  gray  eyes  ;  his  face  was  pale ;  there  was 
something  feminine  about  the  child.  He  still  wore  his  hair 
in  long,  wavy  curls,  and  his  mother  would  not  have  him  give 
u[)  embroidered  collars,  and  little  jackets  fastened  with  frogs 
and  spindle-shaped  buttons  ;  evidently  she  took  a  thoroughly 
feminine  pleasure  in  the  costume,  a  source  of  as  much  interest 
to  the  mother  as  to  the  child.  The  elder  boy's  plain  white 
collar,  turned  down  over  a  closely  fitting  jacket,  made  a  con- 
trast with  his  brother's  clothing,  but  the  color  and  material 
were  the  same  ;  tlie  two  brothers  were  otlierwise  dressed  alike, 
and  looked  alike. 


LA    GRENADI^RE.  371 

No  one  could  see  them  without  feeling  touched  by  the  way 
in  which  Louis  took  care  of  Marie.  There  was  an  almost 
fatherly  look  in  the  older  boy's  eyes ;  and  Marie,  child  though 
he  was,  seemed  to  be  full  of  gratitude  to  Louis.  They  were 
like  two  buds,  scarcely  separated  from  the  stem  that  bore 
them,  swayed  by  the  same  breeze,  lying  in  the  same  ray  of 
sunlight ;  but  the  one  was  a  brightly  colored  flower,  the 
other  somewhat  bleached  and  pale.  At  a  glance,  a  word,  an 
inflection  in  their  mother's  voice,  they  grew  heedful,  turned 
to  look  at  her  and  listened,  and  did  at  once  what  they  were 
bidden,  or  asked,  or  recommended  to  do.  Mme.  Willemsens 
had  so  accustomed  them  to  understand  her  wishes  and  desires 
that  the  three  seemed  to  have  their  thoughts  in  common. 
When  they  went  for  a  walk,  and  the  children,  absorbed  in 
their  play,  ran  away  to  gather  a  flower  or  to  look  at  some  in- 
sect, she  watched  them  with  such  deep  tenderness  in  her  eyes 
that  the  most  indifferent  passer-by  would  feel  moved,  and  stop 
and  smile  at  the  children  and  give  the  mother  a  glance  of 
friendly  greeting.  Who  would  not  have  admired  the  dainty 
neatness  of  their  dress,  their  sweet,  childish  voices,  the  grace 
of  their  movements,  the  promise  in  their  faces,  the  innate 
something  that  told  of  careful  training  from  the  cradle? 
They  seemed  as  if  they  had  never  shed  tears  nor  wailed  like 
other  children.  Their  mother  knew,  as  it  were,  by  electri- 
cally swift  intuition,  the  desires  and  the  pains  which  she  antic- 
ipated and  relieved.  She  seemed  to  dread  a  complaint  from 
one  of  them  more  than  the  loss  of  her  soul.  Everything  in 
her  children  did  honor  to  their  mother's  training.  Their 
threefold  life,  seemingly  one  life,  called  up  vague,  fond 
thoughts;  it  was  like  a  vision  of  the  dreamed-of  bliss  of  a 
better  world.  And  the  three,  so  attuned  to  each  other,  lived 
in  truth  such  a  life  as  one  might  picture  for  them  at  first  sight 
— the  ordered,  simple,  and  regular  life  best  suited  for  a  child's 
education. 

Both  children  rose  an  hour  after  daybreak  and  repeated  a 


372  LA    GRENADlilRE. 

short  prayer,  a  habit  learned  in  their  babyhood.  For  seven 
years  the  sincere  petition  had  been  put  up  every  morning  on 
their  mother's  bed,  begun  and  ended  by  a  kiss.  Then  the 
two  brothers  went  through  their  morning  toilet  as  scrupulously 
as  any  pretty  woman  ;  doubtless  they  had  been  trained  in 
habits  of  minute  attention  to  the  person,  so  necessary,  to 
health  of  body  and  mind,  habits  in  some  sort  conducive  to  a 
sense  of  well-being.  Conscientiously  they  went  through 
their  duties,  so  afraid  were  they  lest  their  mother  should  say 
when  she  kissed  them  at  breakfast-time,  ''My  darling  chil- 
dren, where  can  you  have  been  to  have  such  black  finger- 
nails already?"  Then  the  two  went  out  into  the  garden 
and  shook  off  the  dreams  of  the  night  in  the  morning  air  and 
dew,  until  sweeping  and  dusting  operations  were  completed 
and  they  could  learn  their  lessons  in  the  sitting-room  until 
their  mother  joined  .them.  But  although  it  was  understood 
that  they  must  not  go  to  their  mother's  room  before  a  certain 
hour,  they  peeped  in  at  the  door  continually ;  and  these 
morning  inroads,  made  in  defiance  of  the  original  compact, 
were  delicious  moments  for  all  three.  Marie  sprang  upon  the 
bed  to  put  his  arms  about  his  idolized  mother,  and  Louis, 
kneeling  by  the  pillow,  took  her  hand  in  his.  Then  came  in- 
quiries, anxious  as  a  lover's,  followed  by  angelic  laughter, 
passionate,  childish  kisses,  eloquent  silences,  lisping  words, 
and  the  little  ones'  stories  interrupted  and  resumed  by  a  kiss, 
stories  seldom  finished,  though  the  listeners'  interest  never 
failed. 

"Have  you  been  industrious?"  their  mother  would  ask, 
but  in  tones  so  sweet  and  kindly  that  she  seemed  ready  to 
pity  laziness  as  a  misfortune  and  to  glance  through  tears  at 
the  child  who  was  satisfied  with  himself. 

She  knew  that  the  thought  of  pleasing  her  put  energy  into 
the  children's  work  \  ami  they  knew  that  their  mother  lived 
for  them,  and  that  all  her  thoughts  and  her  time  were  given 
to  them.     A  wonderful  instinct,  neither  selfishness  nor  reason, 


LA    GRENADlilRE.  373 

perhaps  the  first  innocent  beginnings  of  sentiment,  teaches 
clnldren  to  know  whether  or  not  they  are  the  first  and  sole 
thought,  to  find  out  tho.se  who  love  to  think  of  them  and  for 
them.  If  you  really  love  children,  the  dear  little  ones,  with 
o\)^\\  hearts  and  unerring  sense  of  justice,  are  marvelously 
ready  to  respond  to  love.  Their  love  knows  passion  and 
jealousy  and  the  most  gracious  delicacy  of  feeling ;  they  find 
the  tenderest  words  of  expression  ;  they  trust  you — put  an 
entire  belief  in  you.  Perhaps  there  are  no  undutiful  chil- 
dren without  undutiful  mothers,  for  a  child's  affection  is 
always  in  proportion  to  the  affection  that  it  receives — in  early 
care,  in  the  first  words  that  it  hears,  in  the  response  of  the 
eyes  to  which  a  child  first  looks  for  love  and  life.  All  these 
things  draw  them  closer  to  the  mother  or  drive  them  apart. 
God  lays  the  child  under  the  mother's  heart,  that  she  may 
learn  that  for  a  long  time  to  come  her  heart  must  be  its  home. 
And  yet — there  are  mothers  cruelly  slighted,  mothers  whose 
sublime,  pathetic  tenderness  meets  only  a  harsh  return,  a  hide- 
ous ingratitude  which  shows  how  difficult  it  is  to  lay  down 
hard-and-fast  rules  in  matters  of  feeling. 

Here,  not  one  of  all  the  thousand  heart-ties  that  bind 
child  and  mother  had  been  broken.  The  three  were  alone  in 
the  world  ;  they  lived  one  life,  a  life  of  close  sympathy.  If 
Mme.  Willemsens  was  silent  in  the  morning,  Louis  and  Marie 
would  not  speak,  respecting  everything  in  her,  even  those 
thoughts  which  they  did  not  share.  But  the  elder  boy,  with 
a  precocious  power  of  thought,  would  not  rest  satisfied  with 
his  mother's  assertion  that  she  was  perfectly  well.  He 
scanned  her  face  with  uneasy  forebodings ;  the  exact  danger 
he  did  not  know,  but  dimly  he  felt  it  threatening  in  those 
purple  rings  about  her  eyes,  in  the  deepening  hollows  under 
them,  and  the  feverish  red  that  deepened  in  her  face.  If 
Marie's  play  began  to  tire  her,  his  sensitive  tact  was  quick  to 
discover  this,  and  he  would  call  to  his  brother — 

"  Come,  Marie  !  let  us  run  into  breakfast,  I  am  hungry  !  " 


374  LA    GRENADlilRE. 

But  when  they  reached  the  door,  he  would  look  back  to 
catch  the  expression  on  his  mother's  face.  She  could  still 
find  a  smile  for  him;  nay,  often  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes 
when  some  little  thing  revealed  her  child's  exquisite  feeling, 
a  too  early  comprehension  of  sorrow. 

Mme.  Willemsens  dressed  during  the  children's  early  break- 
fast and  game  of  play,  she  was  coquettish  for  her  darlings  ; 
she  wished  to  be  pleasing  in  their  eyes  3  for  them  she  would 
fain  be  in  all  things  lovely,  a  gracious  vision,  with  the  charm 
of  some  sweet  perfume  of  which  one  can  never  have  enough. 

She  was  always  dressed  in  time  to  hear  their  lessons,  which 
lasted  from  ten  till  three,  with  an  interval  at  noon  for  lunch, 
the  three  taking  the  meal  together  in  the  summer-house. 
After  lunch  the  children  played  for  an  hour,  while  she — poor 
woman  and  happy  mother — lay  on  a  long  sofa  in  the  summer- 
house,  so  placed  that  she  could  look  out  over  the  soft,  ever- 
clianging  country  of  Touraine,  a  land  that  you  learn  to  see 
afresh  in  all  the  thousand  chance  effects  produced  by  daylight 
and  sky  and  the  time  of  year. 

The  children  scampered  through  the  orchard,  scrambled 
about  the  terraces,  chased  the  lizards,  scarcely  less  nimble 
than  they ;  investigating  flowers  and  seeds  and  insects,  con- 
tinually referring  all  questions  to  their  mother,  running  to  and 
fro  between  the  garden  and  the  summer-house.  Children 
have  no  need  of  toys  in  the  country,  everytliing  amuses  them. 

Mme.  Willemsens  sat  at  her  embroidery  during  their  les- 
sons. She  never  spoke,  nor  did  she  look  at  masters  or  pupils; 
but  she  followed  attentively  all  that  was  said,  striving  to 
gather  the  sense  of  the  words  to  gain  a  general  idea  of  Louis' 
progress.  If  Louis  asked  a  question  that  puzzled  his  master, 
his  mother's  eyes  suddenly  lighted  up,  and  she  would  smile 
and  glance  at  him  with  hope  in  her  eyes.  Of  Marie  she 
asked  little.  Her  desire  was  with  her  eldest  son.  Already 
she  treated  him,  as  it  were,  respectfully,  using  all  a  woman's, 
all  a  mother's  tact  to  arouse  the  spirit  of  high  endeavor  in 


LA    GRENADlkRE.  375 

the  boy,  to  teach  him  to  think  of  himself  as  capable  of  great 
things.  She  did  this  with  a  secret  purpose,  which  Louis  was 
to  understand  in  the  future;  nay,  he  understood  it  already. 

Always,  the  lesson  over,  she  went  as  far  as  the  gate  with 
the  master,  and  asked  strict  account  of  Louis'  progress.  So 
kindly  and  so  winning  was  her  manner  that  his  tutors  told 
her  the  truth,  pointing  out  where  Louis  was  weak,  so  that  she 
might  help  him  in  his  lessons.  Then  came  dinner,  and  play 
after  dinner,  then  a  walk,  and  lessons  were  learned  till  bed- 
time. 

So  their  days  went.  It  was  a  uniform  but  full  life  ;  work 
and  amusements  left  them  not  a  dull  hour  in  the  day.  Dis- 
couragement and  quarreling  were  impossible.  The  mother's 
boundless  love  made  everything  smooth.  She  taught  her  lit- 
tle sons  moderation  by  refusing  them  nothing,  and  submission 
by  making  them  see  underlying  necessity  in  its  many  forms ; 
she  put  heart  into  them  with  timely  praise ;  developing  and 
strengthening  all  that  was  best  in  their  natures  with  the  care 
of  a  good  fairy.  Tears  sometimes  rose  to  her  burning  eyes 
as  she  watched  them  play,  and  thought  how  that  they  had 
never  caused  her  the  slightest  vexation.  Happiness  so  far- 
reaching  and  complete  brings  such  tears,  because  for  us  it 
represents  the  dim  imaginings  of  heaven  which  we  all  of  us 
form  in  our  minds. 

Those  were  delicious  hours  spent  on  that  sofa  in  the  garden 
house,  in  looking  out  on  sunny  days  over  the  wide  stretches  of 
river  and  the  picturesque  landscape,  listening  to  the  sound  of 
her  children's  voices  as  they  laughed  at  their  own  laughter,  to 
the  little  quarrels  that  told  most  plainly  of  their  union  of 
heart,  of  Louis'  paternal  care  of  Marie,  of  the  love  that  both 
of  them  felt  for  her.  They  spoke  English  and  French  equally 
well  (they  had  had  an  English  nurse  since  their  babyhood), 
so  their  mother  talked  to  them  in  both  languages  ;  directing 
the  bent  of  their  childish  minds  with  admirable  skill,  admit- 
ting no  fallacious  reasoning,  no  bad  principle.     She  ruled  by 


376  LA    CRENADI^RE. 

kindness,  concealing  nothing,  explaining  everything.  If  Louis 
wished  for  books  she  was  careful  to  give  him  interesting  yet 
accurate  books — books  of  biography,  the  lives  of  great  sea- 
men, great  captains,  and  famous  men  ;  for  little  incidents  in 
their  history  gave  her  numberless  opportunities  of  explaining 
the  world  and  life  to  her  children.  She  would  point  out  the 
ways  in  which  men,  really  great  in  themselves,  had  risen  from 
obscurity ;  how  they  had  started  from  the  lowest  ranks  of 
society,  with  no  one  to  look  to  but  themselves,  and  achieved 
noble  destinies. 

These  reading^;,  and  they  were  not  the  least  useful  of  Louis' 
lessons,  took  place  while  little  Marie  slept  on  his  mother's 
knee  in  the  quiet  of  the  summer  night,  and  the  Loire  reflected 
the  sky  ;  but  when  they  ended,  this  adorable  woman's  sadness 
always  seemed  to  be  doubled  ;  she  would  cease  to  speak  and 
sit  motionless  and  pensive,  and  her  eyes  would  fill  with  tears. 

"Mother,  why  are  you  crying?"  Louis  asked  one  balmy 
June  evening,  just  as  the  twilight  of  a  soft-lit  night  succeeded 
to  a  hot  day. 

Deeply  moved  by  his  trouble,  she  put  her  arm  about  the 
child's  neck  and  drew  him  to  her. 

"  Because,  my  boy,  the  lot  of  Jameray  Duval,  the  poor  and 
friendless  lad  who  succeeded  at  last,  will  be  your  lot,  yours 
and  your  brother's,  and  I  have  brought  it  upon  you.  Before 
very  long,  dear  child,  you  will  be  alone  in  the  world,  with  no 
one  to  help  or  befriend  you.  While  you  are  still  children,  I 
shall  leave  you,  and  yet,  if  only  T  could  wait  till  you  are  big 
enough  and  know  enough  to  be  Marie's  guardian  !  But  I 
shall  not  live  so  long.  I  love  you  so  much  that  it  makes  me 
very  unhappy  to  think  of  it.  Dear  children,  if  only  you  do 
not  curse  me  some  day  ! " 

"  But  why  should  I  curse  you  some  day,  mother?  " 

"Some  day,"  she  said,  kissing  him  on  the  forehead,  "you 
will  find  out  that  I  have  wronged  you.  I  am  going  to  leave 
you,  here,  without   money,  without" — here  she  hesitated — 


LA    CRENADliiRE.  377 

"without  a  father,"  she  added,  and  at  the  word  she  burst 
into  tears  and  put  the  boy  from  her  gently.  A  sort  of-  intui- 
tion told  Louis  that  his  mother  wished  to  be  alone,  and  he 
carried  off  Marie,  now  half-awake.  An  hour  later,  when  his 
brother  was  in  bed,  he  stole  down  and  out  to  the  summer- 
house  where  his  mother  was  sitting. 

"  Louis  !  come  here." 

The  words  were  spoken  in  tones  delicious  to  his  heart. 
The  boy  sprang  to  his  mother's  arms,  and  the  two  held  each 
other  in  an  almost  convulsive  embrace. 

'^Cherie,^'  he  said  at  last,  the  name  by  which  he  often 
called  her,  finding  that  even  loving  words  were  too  weak  to 
express  his  feeling;  '■'■Cherie,  why  are  you  afraid  that  you  are 
going  to  die?  " 

"  I  am  ill,  my  poor  darling  ;  every  day  I  am  losing  strength, 
and  there  is  no  cure  for  my  illness  ;   I  know  that." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you?  " 

"  Something  that  I  ought  to  forget ;  something  that  yon 
must  never  know.  You  must  not  know  what  caused  my 
death." 

The  boy  was  silent  awhile.  He  stole  a  glance  now  and 
again  at  his  mother ;  and  she,  with  her  eyes  raised  to  the  sky, 
was  watching  the  clouds.  It  was  a  sad,  sweet  moment.  Louis 
could  not  believe  that  his  mother  would  die  soon,  but  in- 
stinctively he  felt  trouble  which  he  could  not  guess.  He 
respected  her  long  musings.  If  he  had  been  rather  older,  he 
would  have  read  happy  memories  blended  with  thoughts  of 
repentance,  the  whole  story  of  a  woman's  life  in  that  sublime 
face — the  careless  childhood,  the  loveless  marriage,  a  terrible 
passion,  flowers  springing  up  in  storm  and  struck  down  by 
the  thunderbolt  into  an  abyss  from  which  there  is  no  return. 

"Darling  mother,"  Louis  said  at  last,  "  why  do  you  hide 
your  pain  from  me?" 

"  My  boy,  we  ought  to  hide  our  troubles  from  strangers," 
she  said  ;  "  we  should  show  them  a  smiling  face,  never  speak 


878  LA    GRENADlkRE. 

of  ourselves  to  them,  nor  think  about  ourselves ;  and  these 
rules,  put  in  practice  in  family  life,  conduce  to  its  happiness. 
You  will  have  much  to  bear  one  day  !  Ah  me  !  then  think 
of  your  poor  mother  who  died  smiling  before  your  eyes, 
hiding  her  sufferings  from  you,  and  you  will  take  courage  to 
endure  the  ills  of  life." 

She  choked  back  her  tears  and  tried  to  make  the  boy  un- 
derstand the  mechanism  of  existence,  the  value  of  money,  the 
standing  and  consideration  that  it  gives,  and  its  bearing  on 
social  position  ;  the  honorable  means  of  gaining  a  livelihood, 
and  the  necessity  of  a  training.  Then  she  told  him  that  one 
of  the  chief  causes  of  her  sadness  and  her  tears  was  the  thought 
that,  on  the  morrow  of  her  death,  he  and  Marie  would  be  left 
almost  resourceless,  with  but  a  slender  stock  of  money,  and 
no  friend  but  God. 

"How  quick  I  must  be  about  learning!"  cried  Louis, 
giving  her  a  piteous,  searching  look. 

"  Oh  !  how  happy  I  am  !  "  she  said,  showering  kisses  and 
tears  on  her  son.  "  He  understands  me  !  Louis,"  she  went 
on,  "  you  will  be  your  brother's  guardian,  will  you  not  ?  You 
promise  me  that  ?     You  are  no  longer  a  child  !  " 

"  Yes,  I  promise,"  he  said  ;  "  but  you  are  not  going  to  die 
yet — say  that  you  are  not  going  to  die  !  " 

"  Poor  little  ones  !  "  she  replied,  "  love  for  you  keeps  the 
life  in  me.  And  this  country  is  so  sunny,  the  air  is  so  brac- 
ing, perhaps " 

"You  make  me  love  Touraine  more  than  ever,"  said  the 
child. 

From  that  day,  when  Mnie.  Willemsens,  foreseeing  the 
approach  of  death,  spoke  to  Louis  of  his  future,  he  concen- 
trated his  attention  on  his  work,  grew  more  industrious,  and 
less  inclined  to  play  than  heretofore.  When  he  had  coaxed 
Marie  to  read  a  book  and  to  give  up  boisterous  games,  there 
was  less  noise  in  the  hollow  pathways  and  gardens  and  ter- 
raced walks  of  La  Grenadiere.     They  adapted  their  lives  to 


LA    GRENAD7:ERE.  879 

their  mother's  melancholy.  Day  by  day  her  face  was  growing 
pale  and  wan,  there  were  hollows  now  in  her  temples,  the 
lines  in  her  forehead  grew  deeper  night  after  night. 

August  came.  The  little  family  had  been  five  months  at 
La  Grenadiere,  and  their  whole  life  was  changed.  The  old 
servant  grew  anxious  and  gloomy  as  she  watched  the  almost 
imperceptible  symptoms  of  slow  decline  in  the  mistress,  who 
seemed  to  be  kept  in  life  by  an  impassioned  soul  and  intense 
love  of  her  children.  Old  Annette  seemed  to  see  that  death 
was  very  near.  That  mistress,  beautiful  still,  was  more  careful 
of  her  appearance  than  she  had  ever  been  ;  she  was  at  pains 
to  adorn  her  wasted  self  and  wore  paint  on  her  cheeks  ;  but 
often  while  she  walked  on  the  upper  terrace  with  the  children, 
Annette's  wrinkled  face  would  peer  out  from  between  the 
savin  trees  by  the  pump.  The  old  woman  would  forget  her 
work  and  stand  with  the  wet  linen  in  her  hands,  scarcely  able 
to  keep  back  her  tears  at  the  sight  of  Mme.  Willemscns,  so 
little  like  the  enchanting  woman  she  once  had  been. 

The  pretty  house  itself,  once  so  gay  and  bright,  looked  mel- 
ancholy ;  it  was  a  very  quiet  house  now,  and  the  family  seldom 
left  it,  for  the  walk  to  the  bridge  was  too  great  an  effort  for 
Mme.  Willemsens.  Louis  had  almost  identified  himself,  as  it 
were,  with  his  mother,  and  with  his  suddenly  developed  powers 
of  imagination  he  saw  the  weariness  and  exhaustion  under  the 
red  color,  and  constantly  found  reasons  for  taking  some  shorter 
walk. 

So  happy  couples  coming  to  Saint-Cyr,  then  the  Petite 
Courtille  of  Tours,  and  knots  of  folks  out  for  their  evening 
walk  along  the  "dike,"  saw  a  pale,  thin  figure  dressed  in 
black,  a  woman  with  a  worn  yet  bright  face,  gliding  like  a 
shadow  along  the  terraces.  Great  suffering  cannot  be  con- 
cealed. The  vine-dresser's  household  had  grown  quiet  also. 
Sometimes  the  laborer  and  his  wife  and  children  were  gath- 
ered about  the  door  of  their  cottage,  while  Annette  was  wash- 
ing linen  at  the  well-head,  and  Mme.  Willemsens  and  the 


380  LA    GRENADI&RE. 

children  sat  in  the  summer-house,  and  there  was  not  the 
faintest  sound  in  those  gardens  gay  with  flowers.  Unknown 
to  Mme.  Willemsens,  all  eyes  grew  pitiful  at  the  sight  of  her, 
she  was  so  good,  so  thoughtful,  so  dignified  with  those  with 
whom  she  came  in  contact. 

And  as  for  her.  When  the  autumn  days  came  on,  days  so 
sunny  and  bright  in  Touraine,  bringing  with  them  grapes  and 
ripe  fruits  and  healthful  influences  which  must  surely  prolong 
life  in  spite  of  the  ravages  of  mysterious  disease — she  saw  no 
one  but  her  children,  taking  the  utmost  that  the  hour  could 
give  her,  as  if  each  one  had  been  her  last. 

Louis  had  worked  at  night  unknown  to  his  mother,  and 
made  immense  progress  between  June  and  September.  In 
algebra  he  had  come  as  far  as  equations  with  two  unknown 
quantities ;  he  had  studied  descriptive  geometry,  and  drew 
admirably  well ;  in  fact,  he  was  prepared  to  pass  the  entrance 
examination  of  the  Ecole  Polytechnique. 

Sometimes  of  an  evening  he  went  down  to  the  bridge  of 
Tours.  There  was  a  lieutenant  there  on  half-pay,  an  imperial 
naval  officer,  whose  manly  face,  medal,  and  gait  had  made  an 
impression  on  the  boy's  imagination,  and  the  officer  on  his  side 
had  taken  a  liking  to  the  lad,  whose  eyes  sparkled  with  energy. 
Louis,  hungering  for  tales  of  adventure  and  eager  for  informa- 
tion, used  to  follow  in  the  lieutenant's  wake  for  the  chance 
of  a  chat  with  him.  It  so  happened  that  the  sailor  had  a 
friend  and  comrade  in  the  colonel  of  a  regiment  of  infantry, 
struck  off"  the  rolls  like  himself;  and  younj;  Louis-Gaston  had 
a  chance  of  learning  what  life  was  like  in  camp  or  on  board  a 
man-of-war.  Of  course  he  plied  the  veterans  with  questions ; 
and  when  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  the  hardships  of  their 
rough  callings,  he  asked  his  mother's  leave  to  take  country 
walks  by  way  of  amusement.  Mme.  Willemsens  was  beyond 
measure  glad  that  he  should  ask  ;  the  boy's  astonished  masters 
had  told  her  that  he  was  overworking  himself.  So  Louis  went 
for  long  walks.     He  tried  to  inure  himself  to  fatigue,  climbed 


LA    GRENADIARE.  381 

the  tallest  trees  with  incredible  quickness,  learned  to  swim, 
watched  through  the  night.  He  was  not  like  the  same  boy ; 
he  was  a  young  man  already,  with  a  sunburned  face,  and  a 
something  in  his  expression  that  told  of  deep  purpose. 

When  October  came,  Mme.  Willemsens  could  only  rise  at 
noon.  The  sunshine,  reflected  by  the  surface  of  the  Loire 
and  stored  up  by  the  rocks,  raised  the  temperature  of  the  air 
till  it  was  almost  as  warm  and  soft  as  the  atmosphere  of  the 
Bay  of  Naples,  for  which  reason  the  faculty  recommended  the 
place  of  abode.  At  mid-day  she  came  out  to  sit  under  the 
shade  of  green  leaves  with  the  two  boys,  who  never  wandered 
from  her  now.  Lessons  had  come  to  an  end.  Mother  and 
children  wished  to  live  the  life  of  heart  and  heart  together, 
with  no  disturbing  element,  no  outside  cares.  No  tears  now, 
no  joyous  outcries.  The  elder  boy,  lying  in  the  grass  at  his 
mother's  side,  basked  in  her  eyes  like  a  lover  and  kissed  her 
feet.  Marie,  the  restless  one,  gathered  flowers  for  her,  and 
brought  them  with  a  subdued  look,  standing  on  tiptoe  to  put  a 
girlish  kiss  on  her  lips.  And  the  pale  woman,  with  the  great 
tired  eyes  and  languid  movements,  never  uttered  a  word  of 
complaint,  and  smiled  upon  her  children,  so  full  of  life  and 
health — it  was  a  sublime  picture,  lacking  no  melancholy 
autumn  pomp  of  yellow  leaves  and  half-despoiled  branches,  nor 
the  softened  sunlight  and  pale  clouds  of  the  skies  of  Touraine. 

At  last  the  doctor  forbade  Mme.  Willemsens  to  leave  her 
room.  Every  day  it  was  brightened  by  the  flowers  that  she 
loved,  and  her  children  were  always  with  her.  One  day, 
early  in  November,  she  sat  at  the  piano  for  the  last  time.  A 
picture — a  Swiss  landscape — hung  above  the  instrument ;  and 
at  the  window  she  could  see  her  children  standing  with  their 
heads  close  together.  Again  and  again  she  looked  from  the 
children  to  the  landscape,  and  then  again  at  the  children. 
Her  face  flushed,  her  fingers  flew  with  passionate  feeling  over 
the  ivory  keys.  This  was  her  last  great  day,  an  unmarked 
day  of  festival,  held  in  her  own  soul  by  the  spirit  of  her  memo- 


382  LA    GRENADI^RE. 

ries.  When  the  doctor  came,  he  ordered  her  to  stay  in  bed. 
The  alarming  dictum  was  received  with  bewildered  silence 
and  sorrow. 

When  the  doctor  had  gone,  she  turned  to  the  elder  boy. 

"  Louis,"  she  said,  "  take  me  out  on  the  terrace,  so  that  I 
may  see  my  country  once  more." 

The  boy  gave  his  arm  at  these  simply  uttered  words,  and 
brought  his  mother  out  upon  the  terrace ;  but  her  eyes  turned, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  to  heaven  rather  than  to  the  earth, 
and,  indeed,  it  would  have  been  hard  to  say  whether  heaven 
or  earth  was  the  fairer — for  the  clouds  traced  shadowy  out- 
lines, like  the  grandest  Alpine  glaciers,  against  the  sky.  Mme. 
Willemsens'  brows  contracted  vehemently ;  there  was  a  look 
of  anguish  and  remorse  in  her  eyes.  She  caught  the  children's 
hands  and  clutched  them  to  a  heavily-throbbing  heart. 

"Parentage  unknown!"  she  cried,  with  a  look  that  went 
to  their  hearts.  "Poor  angels,  what  will  become  of  you? 
And  when  you  are  twenty  years  old,  what  strict  account  may 
you  not  require  of  my  life  and  your  own  ?  " 

She  put  the  children  from  her,  and,  leaning  her  arms  upon 
the  balustrade,  stood  for  a  while  hiding  her  face,  alone  with 
herself,  fearful  of  all  eyes.  When  she  recovered  from  the 
paroxysm,  she  saw  Louis  and  Marie  kneeling  on  either  side 
of  her,  like  two  angels  ;  they  watched  the  expression  of  her 
face  and  smiled  lovingly  at  her. 

"  If  only  I  could  take  that  smile  with  me  !  "  she  said,  dry- 
ing her  eyes. 

Then  she  went  into  the  house  and  took  to  the  bed,  which 
she  would  only  leave  for  her  coffin. 

A  week  went  by,  one  day  exactly  like  anotlier.  Old  An- 
nette and  Louis  took  it  in  turns  to  sit  up  with  Mme.  Willem- 
sens, never  taking  their  eyes  from  the  invalid.  It  was  the 
deeply  tragical  hour  that  comes  in  all  our  lives,  the  hour  of 
listening  in  terror  to  every  deep  breath  lest  it  should  be  the 
last,  a  dark  hour  protracted  over  many  days.     On  the  fifth 


LA    GKEXADlJ>RE.  383 

day  of  that  fatal  week  the  doctor  interdicted  flowers  in  the 
room.     The  illusions  of  life  were  going  one  by  one. 

Then  Marie  and  his  brother  felt  their  mother's  lips  hot  as 
fire  beneath  their  kisses  ;  and  at  last,  on  the  Saturday  even- 
ing, Mme.  Willemsens  was  too  ill  to  bear  the  slightest  sound 
and  her  room  was  left  in  disorder.  This  neglect  for  a  woman 
of  refined  taste,  who  clung  so  persistently  to  the  graces  of 
life,  meant  the  beginning  of  the  death-agony.  After  this, 
Louis  refused  to  leave  his  mother.  On  Sunday  night,  in  tlie 
midst  of  the  deepest  silence,  when  Louis  thought  that  she  had 
grown  drowsy,  he  saw  a  white,  moist  hand  move  the  curtain 
in  the  lamplight. 

"  My  son  !  "  she  said.  There  was  something  so  solemn  in 
the  dying  woman's  tones  that  the  power  of  her  wrought-up 
soul  produced  a  violent  reaction  on  the  boy  ;  he  felt  an  in- 
tense heat  pass  through  the  marrow  of  his  bones. 

"What  is  it,  mother?" 

"  Listen  !  To-morrow  all  will  be  over  for  me.  We  shall 
see  each  other  no  more.  To-morrow  you  will  be  a  man,  my 
child.  So  I  am  obliged  to  make  some  arrangements,  which 
must  remain  a  secret,  known  only  to  us.  Take  the  key  of 
my  little  table.  That  is  it.  Now  open  the  drawer.  You 
will  find  two  sealed  papers  to  the  left.  There  is  the  name  of 
Louis  on  one,  and  on  the  other  Marie." 

"Here  they  are,  mother." 

"Those  are  your  certificates  of  birth,  darling;  you  will 
need  them.  Give  them  to  our  poor  old  Annette  to  keep  for 
you;  ask  her  for  them  when  you  want  them.  Now,"  she 
continued,  "  is  there  not  another  paper  as  well,  something  in 
my  handwriting?  " 

"Yes,  mother,"  and  Louis  began  to  read,  ^^ Marie  Willem- 
sens, born  (it " 

"That  is  enough,"  she  broke  in  quickly,  "do  not  go  on. 
When  I  am  dead  give  that  paper,  too,  to  Annette,  and  tell 
her  to  send  it  to  the  registrar  at  Saint-Cyr;  it  will  be  wanted 


384  LA    GREXADI&RE. 

if  my  certificate  of  death  is  to  be  made  out  in  due  form. 
Now  find  writing  materials  for  a  letter  which  I  will  dictate  to 
you." 

When  she  saw  that  he  was  ready  to  begin  to  write,  and 
turned  towards  her  for  the  words,  they  came  from  her  very 
quietly : 

"  Monsieur  le  Comte,  your  wife,  Lady  Brandon,  died  at 
Saint-Cyr,  near  Tours,  in  the  department  of  Indre-et-Loire. 
She  forgave  you." 

"Sign  yourself ,"  she  stopped,  hesitating  and  per- 
turbed. 

"  Are  you  feeling  worse?  "  asked  Louis. 

"Put  '  Louis-Gaston,'  "  she  said. 

She  sighed,  then  she  went  on  : 

"Seal  the  letter,  and  direct  it.  To  Lord  Brandon,  Bran, 
don  Square,  Hyde  Park,  London,  Angleterre.  That  is  right. 
When  I  am  dead,  post  the  letter  in  Tours,  and  prepay  the 
postage.  Now,"  she  added,  after  a  pause,  "take  the  little 
pocket-book  that  you  know  and  come  here,  my  dear  child. 
There  are  twelve  thousand  francs  in  it,"  she  said,  when  Louis 
had  returned  to  her  side.  "  That  is  all  your  own.  Oh  me  ! 
you  would  have  been  better  off  if  your  father " 

"My  father,"   cried  the  boy,  "  where  is  he?" 

"  He  is  dead,"  she  said,  laying  her  finger  on  her  lips;  "he 
died  to  save  my  honor  and  my  life." 

She  looked  upward.  If  any  tears  had  been  left  to  her,  she 
could  have  wept  for  pain. 

"Louis,"  she  continued,  "  swear  to  me,  as  I  lie  here,  that 
you  will  forget  all  that  you  have  written,  all  that  I  have  told 
you." 

"Yes,  mother." 

"  Kiss  me,  dear  angel." 

She  was  silent   for  a  long  time,  she  seemed  to  be  drawing 


LA    GRENADI^RE.  385 

strength  from  God  and  to  be  measuring  her  words  by  the  life 
that  remained  in  her. 

"  Listen,"  she  began.  "  Those  twelve  thousand  francs  are 
all  that  you  have  in  the  world.  You  must  keep  the  money 
'oon  you,  because  when  I  am  dead  the  lawyers  will  come  and 
seal  everything  up.  Nothing  will  be  yours  then,  not  even 
your  mother.  All  that  remains  for  you  to  do  will  be  to  go 
out,  poor  orphan  children,  God  knows  where.  I  have  made 
Annette's  future  secure.  She  will  have  an  annuity  of  a  hun- 
dred crowns,  and  she  will  stay  at  Tours,  no  doubt.  But  what 
will  you  do  for  yourself  and  your  brother?" 

She  raised  herself,  and  looked  at  the  brave  child  standing 
by  her  bedside.  There  were  drops  of  perspiration  on  his 
forehead,  he  was  pale  with  emotion  and  his  eyes  were  dim 
with  tears. 

"I  have  thought  it  over,  mother,"  he  answered  in  a  deep 
voice,  "  I  will  take  Marie  to  the  school  here  in  Tours.  I 
will  give  ten  thousand  francs  to  our  old  Annette,  and  ask  her 
to  take  care  of  them,  and  to  look  after  Marie.  Then,  with 
the  remaining  two  thousand  francs,  I  will  go  to  Brest,  and  go 
to  sea  as  an  apprentice.  While  Marie  is  at  school,  I  will  rise 
to  be  a  lieutenant  on  board  a  man-of-war.  There,  after  all, 
die  in  peace,  my  mother ;  I  shall  come  back  again  a  rich 
man  and  our  little  one  shall  go  to  the  Ecole  Polytechnique, 
and  I  will  find  a  career  to  suit  his  bent." 

A  gleam  of  joy  shone  in  the  dying  woman's  eyes.  Two 
tears  brimmed  over  and  fell  down  her  fevered  cheeks ;  then  a 
deep  sigh  escaped  her  lips.  The  sudden  joy  of  finding  the 
father's  spirit  in  the  son,  who  had  grown  all  at  once  to  be  a 
man,  almost  killed  her. 

"Angel  of  heaven,"  she  cried,  weeping,  "by  one  word 
you  have  effaced  all  my  sorrows.  Ah  !  I  can  bear  them. 
This  is  my  son,"  she  said,  "I  bore,  I  reared  this  man,"  and 
she  raised  her  hands  above  her  and  clasped  them  as  if  in 
ecstasy,  then  she  lay  back  on  the  pillow. 
25 


386  LA    GREMADlkRE. 

"  Mother,  your  face  is  growing  pale  !  "  cried  the  lad. 

"Some  one  must  go  for  a  priest,"  she  answered,  with  a 
dying  voice. 

Louis  awakened  Annette,  and  the  terrified  old  woman 
hurried  to  the  parsonage  at  Saint-Cyr. 

When  morning  came,  Mme.  Willemsens  received  the  sacra- 
ment amidst  the  most  touching  surroundings.  Her  children 
were  kneeling  in  the  room,  with  Annette  and  the  vine-dresser's 
family,  simple  folk,  who  had  already  become  part  of  the 
household.  The  silver  crucifix,  carried  by  a  chorister,  a 
peasant  child  from  the  village,  was  lifted  up  and  the  dying 
mother  received  the  Viaticum  from  an  aged  priest.  The 
Viaticum  !  sublime  word,  containing  an  idea  yet  more  sub- 
lime, an  idea  only  possessed  by  the  apostolic  religion  of  the 
Roman  church. 

"  This  woman  has  suffered  greatly  !  "  the  old  cure  said  in 
his  simple  way. 

Marie  Willemsens  heard  no  voices  now,  but  her  eyes  were 
still  fixed  upon  her  children.  Those  about  her  listened  in 
terror  to  her  breathing  in  the  deep  silence ;  already  it  came 
more  slowly,  though  at  intervals  a  deep  sigh  told  them  that 
she  still  lived,  and  of  a  struggle  within  her  ;  then  at  last  it 
ceased.  Every  one  burst  into  tears  except  Marie.  He,  poor 
child,  was  still  too  young  to  know  what  death  meant. 

Annette  and  the  vine-dresser's  wife  closed  the  eyes  of  the 
adorable  woman,  whose  beauty  shone  out  in  all  its  radiance 
after  death.  Then  the  women  took  possession  of  the  chamber 
of  death,  removed  the  furniture,  wrapped  the  dead  in  her 
winding-sheet  and  laid  her  upon  the  couch.  They  lit  tapers 
about  her  and  arranged  everything — the  crucifix,  the  sprigs 
of  box,  and  the  holy-water  stoup — after  the  custom  of  the 
countryside,  bolting  the  shutters  and  drawing  the  curtains. 
Later  the  curate  came  to  pass  the  night  in  prayer  with  Louis, 
who  refused  to  leave  his  mother.  On  Tuesday  morning  an 
old  woman  and  two  children  and  a  vine-dresser's  wife  followed 


LA    GRENADlllRE.  381 

the  dead  to  her  grave.  I'hese  were  the  only  mourners.  Yet 
this  was  a  woman  whose  wit  and  beauty  and  charm  had  won  a 
European  reputation,  a  woman  whose  funeral,  if  it  had  taken 
place  in  London,  would  have  been  recorded  in  pompous 
newspaper  paragraphs  as  a  sort  of  aristocratic  rite,  if  she  had 
not  committed  the  sweetest  of  crimes,  a  crime  always  expiated 
in  this  world,  so  that  the  pardoned  spirit  may  enter  heaven. 
Marie  cried  when  they  threw  the  earth  on  his  mother's  coffin  ; 
he  understood  that  he  should  see  her  no  more. 

A  simple,  wooden  cross,  set  up  to  mark  her  grave,  bore 
this  inscription,  due  to  the  cure  of  Saint-Cyr : 

HERE  LIES 

AN  UNHAPPY  WOMAN, 

WHO   DIED  AT  THE   AGE   OF   THIRTV-SIX. 
KNOWN   IN   HEAVEN   BY   THE   NAME   OF  AUGUSTA. 

Pray  for  her  / 

When  all  was  over,  the  children  came  back  to  La  Grena- 
diere  to  take  a  last  look  at  their  home;  then,  hand  in  hand, 
they  turned  to  go  with  Annette,  leaving  the  vine-dresser  in 
charge,  with  directions  to  duly  hand  over  everything  to  the 
proper  authorities. 

At  this  moment,  Annette  called  to  Louis  from  the  steps  by 
the  kitchen  door,  and  took  him  aside  with,  "  Here  is  mad- 
ame's  ring,  Monsieur  Louis." 

The  sight  of  this  vivid  remembrance  of  his  dead  mother 
moved  him  so  deeply  that  he  wept.  In  his  fortitude,  he  had 
not  even  thought  of  this  supreme  piety  ;  and  he  flung  his 
arms  round  the  old  woman's  neck.  Then  tlie  three  set  out 
down  the  beaten  path  and  the  stone  staircase,  and  so  to  Tours, 
without  turning  their  heads. 


888  LA    GRENADI^RE. 

'*  Mamma  used  to  come  here!"  Marie  said  when  they 
reached  the  bridge, 

Annette  had  a  relative,  a  retired  dressmaker,  who  lived  in 
the  Rue  de  la  Guerche.  She  took  the  two  children  to  this 
cousin's  house,  meaning  that  they  should  live  together  thence- 
forth. But  Louis  told  her  of  his  plans,  gave  Marie's  certifi- 
cate of  birth  and  the  ten  thousand  francs  into  her  keeping, 
and  the  two  went  the  next  morning  to  take  Marie  to  school. 

Louis  very  briefly  explained  his  position  to  the  headmaster, 
and  went.  Marie  came  with  him  as  far  as  the  gateway. 
There  Louis  gave  solemn  parting  words  of  the  tenderest 
counsel,  telling  Marie  that  he  would  now  be  left  alone  in  the 
world.  He  looked  at  his  brother  for  a  moment,  and  put  his 
arms  about  him,  took  one  more  long  look,  brushed  a  tear 
from  his  eyes,  and  went,  turning  again  and  again  till  the  very 
last  to  see  his  brother  standing  there  in  the  gateway  of  the 
school. 

A  month  later  Louis-Gaston,  now  an  apprentice  on  board  a 
man-of-war,  left  the  harbor  of  Rochefort.  Leaning  over  the 
bulwarks  of  the  corvette  Iris,  he  watched  the  coast  of  France 
receding  swiftly  till  it  became  indistinguishable  from  the  faint, 
blue  horizon  line.  In  a  little  while  he  felt  that  he  was  really 
alone,  and  lost  in  the  wide  ocean,  lost  and  alone  in  the  world 
and  in  life. 

"  There  is  no  need  to  cry,  lad  ;  there  is  a  God  for  us  all," 
said  an  old  sailor,  with  rough  kindliness  in  his  thick  voice. 

The  boy  thanked  him  with  pride  in  his  eyes.  Then  he 
bowed  his  head,  and  resigned  himself  to  a  sailor's  life.  He 
was  a  father. 

ANGOULfeME,  August,  1 832. 


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